Issues of Blood
by dazedkitten
Summary: COMPLETE DG. AU Deathly Hallows. Inspired by Pud's great DG fic contest 2007. Epilogue: Age had marked them both. But in her eyes, he could still see the fire that had drawn him to her, the determination that had kept them together all these years.
1. Chapter 1

_Inspired by Pud's great Draco and Ginny fic contest 2007. Requirements: feature either Draco or Ginny (or both) as a cat burglar. This story will be updated infrequently as time (and storyline) allow. _

_Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or related articles, and I am making no money from this story._

**Issues of blood**

Ginny Weasley clung to the stone wall of the building with all the strength in her fingertips and toes. Her wand was clenched between her teeth as she moved her foot precariously to the left. She was glad for the charms sewn into the fabric of her leggings and top, and the potions she had smeared over her soft leather shoes and gloves. She was as close to invisible as she could possibly hope to be, and as close to silent. Reaching left with her fingertips, searching for a large enough crack or bump to hold onto, she shifted her weight carefully.

The window was above her now, almost within arm's reach. Inching upwards with her feet, she somehow managed to get her fingertips over the sill. A tiny thrill went through them as she struggled to calm her breathing enough to identify what sort of charms were protecting it from intruders. After a moment of silence she recognized it, and silently cast the spell to counter it. Still cautious, knowing that incaution could kill her now, Ginny dragged herself up high enough to see through the window. An empty bedroom. She ran over the building's blueprint in her mind. She was in the right place, but a sixth sense kept her at eye level for a few more moments.

There was a strange stillness about the room. Ginny stared at the door, then at a mirror. She turned her head to the left, glancing out of the corner of her eye. Nothing moved. She grinned, glad that she had learned to trust herself over the years. The bedroom was a glamour, just an illusion. Ginny unravelled the glamour, waited a few more moments as the reality of the room settled itself down.

Empty, but for a collection of shelves against the wall to her left, but thick with dust on the floor. Ginny magicked the glass away, crawled up to sit on the window frame. She scanned the shelves as well as she could before pulling out a set of omnioculars. After a few moments, with the omnioculars filtering more light into the picture and enlarging it, she identified the object she was after. Putting the omnioculars away, she levitated a boring-looking box up off the shelf, put it into a mesh sack, and replaced it with an identical-looking copy. Ginny made sure it was covered in dust, like everything else in the room. Tucking the mesh bag into her clothes, she lowered herself back to the wall outside the window, returned the window glass, the glamour and the warding charm. After watching for a moment, slowing her heart at the elation singing in her blood, she began her long, slow descent.

Sprinting those last few metres on shaking legs, Ginny could feel the adrenaline rush of getting away with her burglary. Turning to glance back at the impressive stone building Ginny smiled that she was getting something back from a family who had taken so much from her. She apparated with a soft hiss, slowly moving her mass to the destination and avoiding the normal tell-tale noise.

Her room at the Leaky Cauldron was empty, except for her single bed and lonely chair which housed her waitress' outfit. With shaking hands, Ginny prodded the box with her wand, sensing for any charms. She disarmed a nasty curse, unlocked the Lock-Forever charm, and finally lifted an illusion from the item.

Inside the box, laying on green velvet, were two rings. Platinum, Ginny decided when she examined them. Engraved with ivy leaves, set with tiny emeralds and enchanted heavily with protection charms and, she assumed, fidelity charms.

They were beautiful, and Ginny thought that she should perhaps feel bad about the fact that she was going to pawn them. Gingerly picking one up – the female one, from its smaller size and more delicate band – she turned it over, reading script on the inside of the band. They were names, she realised after half a minute of deciphering the tiny script; the names of all the women that this ring had belonged to. A jolt of something – remorse? – landed in her stomach. Ginny read the names, though, all the way down to Narcissa. With a small, nasty smile, she banished any feeling of guilt. Malfoy was never going to marry, and even if he did, he had enough money to buy the poor girl a pretty new ring. Slipping the ring onto her finger, she turned it this way and that, wondering how Malfoy had gotten these back from his parents – his father had died in Azkaban, after all.

After looking at the ring for a few moments, Ginny tried to take it off. It was then that she realised that it was perhaps not the most clever idea to put on enchanted rings. Especially enchanted wedding rings. Even more especially when she had no intention of keeping the ring on her finger. Because this ring – Malfoy's family wedding ring – was stuck.


	2. Chapter 2

Perhaps she could just walk up to him and ask him to remove it. Ginny was staring at the back of Malfoy's blond head, cursing his very existence. Maybe if he was dead the charms would end. But staring daggers into his back was very different from actually sinking one into his flesh, and Ginny knew that she would never kill another living thing. Not since the chickens in her first year. Not since the basilisk. Not since Tom.

He was eating lunch at a fancy café, the kind that most people could ill afford to patron these days. The food on his plate looked almost scandalous – steak and asparagus, potato salad and tomatoes out of season. Ginny thought of her own dinner the night before, which had consisted of the Leaky Cauldron's house stew and some two-day-old bread which the cook had been about to throw away.

Forcing herself to turn away, Ginny walked back toward the Leaky Cauldron. Diagon Alley was not as colourful as it usually was, but times were hard. Walking through the pub, Ginny merged into the muggle crowd on the London street, intent on selling the other wedding band. It would bring in at least some revenue, maybe it would help her parents to avoid destitution while her father was still intent on pursuing his pointless quest of saving the Ministry of Magic.

Muggle London was everything that English wizarding society wasn't at the moment. This area was affluent to the point of stupidity, and the strange assortment of high class styles allowed Ginny to not feel too out of place. The pawn shop on the corner was sure to give her a decent price; she had sold other items there before. She was half-certain that the man behind the counter knew she was a witch, and had a suspicion that he himself was a wizard. But they didn't talk about it. They only talked business.

"Well, this is a nice piece," the man said in beautifully rounded tones. His shirt was not flashy, but Ginny knew it to be silk. His watch was a Rolex, though he could have passed it off as a fake downtown. His own wedding band was plain and unadorned, but his hands told that he had never done a day's hard labour.

"Yes, I am lucky to come across some nice pieces at garage sales," she replied, knowing that her accent gave away her origins. She didn't fidget but stood confidently, hands clasped in front of her so that he couldn't see the ring's partner still stuck on her hand.

"Looks like a family heirloom," he said, glancing up at her from the ring.

"Well, it was deceased estate, so I assume that if it didn't go to the closest relative, then there was nobody to give it to." Praying to whatever god would give her luck, Ginny hoped that the man was no wizard, because every wizard knew the names Abraxas and Lucius as Malfoy names.

With a small smile, the man straightened. "This is pure platinum, good quality emeralds and beautiful etching. I hope you paid a lot for it, Madam, because it is worth a lot. I will give you five thousand pounds for it."

Ginny forced herself to smile lightly, wishing that the ring on her finger was in the pawnbroker's hand and trebling the price. "That sounds like a fair price, sir." As the man wrote out a cheque, she forced herself not to fidget. Taking the piece of paper carefully, Ginny thanked the man and left, keeping her left hand in her pocket. A glance at the sky told her she had about an hour until she started her shift, and she still had to eat dinner. Rushing back to the Leaky Cauldron and its entrance to Diagon Alley, Ginny could feel a flush of success urging her on.


	3. Chapter 3

_A/N: Thankyou very much to my lovely reviewers! _

Life was reasonably normal for a long time. Apart from a daily disillusionment charm on the ring, Ginny paid it no mind. Her parents were happy with a small amount of money from her account every fortnight when she was paid, and Ginny was secretly amused that the Malfoy estate was funding her parents' lifestyle.

Being a waitress in the Leaky Cauldron, however, carried risks. One night, she was sure she served Severus Snape, though she never knew for sure, as he was shrouded in a thick black cloak with the hood pulled low over his face. He was alone, but she got the impression he was waiting for someone. After serving him his drink she rushed away, hoping he didn't recognise her. She didn't want to think about the company he kept, nor risk being kidnapped if he thought she knew who he was.

He was back again the night after that. And the night after that. Every night for a fortnight, Snape sat in a dark corner, watching the door. Ginny avoided him as much as possible, but she was the only waitress on Wednesday evenings, so she had to bustle around him, her breath catching in her throat every time she got too close.

She was reaching across the table to pick up his dirty plate and mug when his hand shot out and grabbed her wrist. Now she could see his black eyes staring at her, boring into her face. She tried to pull away, tried to make a scene, but found she could do neither – she was frozen like a pygmy puff in a spotlight.

"What is this?" Snape hissed, shaking her hand – her left hand, she realised, her stomach sinking. She shook her head, because her throat refused to let any sound out.

"I believe this is the Malfoy heirloom ring?" Still she could say nothing. Her hands were trembling, and she had to prop herself against the table to not fall over.

"Oh, stop quivering, girl," Snape snapped at her, thrusting her hand away. "Sit down, I want to know how you got in."

It took Ginny five seconds to realise that Snape wasn't going to murder her on the spot. She sank into the chair opposite him, still terrified. Snape was looking at her bemusedly, an eyebrow raised, waiting for her to talk.

After a small stutter, Ginny managed to begin talking. "I… I researched the estate, and as long as I'm a pureblood, I'm fine… can't apparate within five hundred metres of the buildings, can't use a levitation charm so I scaled the walls, was very careful to identify the guard charms on the window, found what I wanted, replaced the charms, climbed back down the wall, ran the five hundred metres, apparated to my bedroom, took an untraceable charm off my wand."

Snape sat watching her with his black eyes while Ginny caught her breath. His face was blank, and Ginny wondered what he was waiting for. On a closer inspection, however, she noticed that he wasn't really looking at her – more looking through her. Thinking. Oh. Looking down at the table – stained by ale and worn smooth by many a customer – Ginny waited.

"How long did you plan for your burglary?" He asked, looking at her again. Ginny counted up the time.

"About six months. Got the plans for the building from the Ministry, studied guard charms, got fit, researched the Malfoy treasure and picked an item that I would be able to find…" She trailed off, seeing that Snape wasn't looking at her any longer.

Curious, Ginny asked, "why do you want to know, sir?"

Snape blinked. "That is none of your business, Miss Weasley. And I remind you that at any point I could report you to Mr Malfoy, since I believe that the ring you have on your finger is not removable except by way of death."

Ginny narrowed her eyes, leant closer to Snape over the table, her fear channelling into anger. "You could. But you won't. Because, for some reason, you want something from Malfoy as well. And he won't give it to you freely."

Snape snatched the front of her robes, pulled her close enough to smell his sour breath. "I could charm you right now, and you'd never know any different, never know that you'd given away this information. I could remove the entire incident from you, and you'd barely blink."

"But you won't," Ginny hissed, pushing her nose even closer to Snape, almost touching him; "for the same reason that you didn't just _take_ the information you wanted from my head. You can, but you _won't_."

Snape held her there for a moment longer, glaring, before he thrust her back into her chair. "You know nothing about it," Snape hissed, but he couldn't quite meet her gaze.

Ginny sat across from him for a while, emboldened by her victory, studying what she could see of him. He was thin – thinner than he had even been a Hogwarts, and the lines on his face seemed scored into his skin. His eyes were sunk deep into his face, and the skin beneath them was darkened from lack of sleep and good nutrition. His robe was black, but worn at the elbows and spotted from spills that he hadn't cared to spell clean.

"You won't be able to get onto the estate. You're half-blood, aren't you?" Ginny asked, and the snarl she received in return was enough answer for her. "Tell me what you want."

Snape finally met her eyes again, and Ginny wondered what he was thinking – his black, soulless eyes giving nothing away. "For a fee, I'll get whatever you want."

"And you'll stick it on your person and be unable to remove it?" Snape hissed, and Ginny felt her face colour. Refusing to be cowed, Ginny bared her teeth at him.

She earned herself a short barking laugh from Snape, who seemed to relax a little. "I have no money to pay you with. The… political climate has not been kind to me, as it seems it has not been kind to you."

"Or my family," Ginny added under her breath, but Snape didn't seem to hear, as he kept talking.

"I would be willing to work towards getting that thing," he indicated to her left hand, which was still sitting on the table, "removed, or at least properly invisible." Ginny snatched her hand off the table and shoved it into her lap where Snape couldn't see it. His sneer was returned with a glare.

"What you want is profitable?" Ginny asked shortly, feeling uncomfortably strange speaking on an almost equal level with a man she had always known as an authority figure.

"Perhaps," he replied, with what Ginny assumed Snape thought to be an air of mystery. She snorted, earning herself another glare.

"I want ten percent of whatever profit you make from it."

"One percent." Ginny peered at Snape's face, trying to gauge how much profit he was actually intending to make from the item she was going to steal.

"Ten percent, or you can go get it yourself."

Snape glared at her, making her feel like a schoolgirl again. But Ginny had survived six older brothers, and knew when she could win an argument or a bargain. She set her jaw and waited. Snape, fuming, glared at the door behind her, then returned his gaze to the redhead.

"Ten percent," he agreed.

"In writing," Ginny pushed, and Snape – glaring – nodded his head. "I accept your proposition. Now, what am I stealing?"

Snape glanced around, then leaned closer to her. "The paradise pearls."


	4. Chapter 4

Ginny rolled over. It was Saturday, which meant she had the whole day off. The sun was streaming through her grimy window, and her bed was getting warm enough to rouse her from comfortable rest.

Her head hurt and her eyes were gummy. Pushing her covers aside, Ginny forced herself to sit up. The floor was cold on her feet, and her body ached. Wiping away the grainy feeling from her eyes, Ginny pulled the covers of her bed into some semblance of order and headed for the shower.

Under the hot water, Ginny's muscles relaxed a little, and her mind unfogged. She'd been exercising yesterday, getting ready for the burglary. Her eyes were grainy from studying until two in the morning, reading up on the paradise pearls that Snape wanted her to steal.

It was a necklace of pearls – black pearls found in the waters off Tahiti, imbued with some sort of mer-creature enchantments that brought good fortune to the wearer. Ginny leaned her forehead against the cold tiled wall, wishing that Snape had found someone else to do his robbery. The money in her Gringott's account was dwindling, however, and she needed the income. And she was visiting her parents for dinner tonight – her one night off in the week. Sighing, Ginny rinsed her hair out and got out of the shower.

Malfoy had hardly changed his defences in the past three months. Ginny had used precious money to bribe information out of wizards who worked on the estate to ensure her knowledge was accurate. Taking no chances, however, she had charmed the men to keep quiet. They would never speak of it.

It was going to be difficult, but Ginny knew she could do it. She'd done it before. She had worked out where the necklace was being kept – speaking with Malfoy's maid had given her that information – and the charms that were guarding it. Next week she would be going in.

But today she was going shopping with Hermione, and then having dinner with her parents. A heavy sensation grew in her chest as she thought about her parents. Everything should have been right for them once Voldemort had been defeated. But Scrimgeour's defection – with about half of the Ministry of Magic – had crippled the political world. Her father was still desperately working toward reinstating the Ministry, but people were distrustful. The whole situation in Wizarding Britain was awkward and painful, with nobody ruling and societal laws disappearing by the day. Ginny had watched her parents dig themselves a huge vegetable garden, and now her mum spent most days in the dirt since her dad wasn't being paid any more. They had invested so heavily, Ginny sighed to herself as she pulled on a pair of old jeans and a worn jumper, in a system that had failed them that they could not move on.

No, Ginny mused to herself, the real power today was wherever there was money. Gringotts had kept its prominent position on Diagon Alley primarily because it held almost every knut, sickle and galleon in Britain. And wealthy people – like Malfoy – could do whatever they wanted, because there was nobody to persecute them. Ginny looked down at her hand, and the ring which was still lodged on her finger. Sighing, she disillusioned it and left her room. She waved to Tom on the way through, and he answered her with a grin as she left through the front door.

Catching Muggle transport was still awkward, even after months of using it. The bus was full of people, and she had to stand in the isle and hang on for dear life as the machine sped up, slowed down, turned corners and let people on and off. Eventually, however, she made it to the area where she was meeting Hermione.

Hermione and Ron had moved into the Muggle world when Voldemort had been defeated and Wizarding society collapsed. Hermione had a full time job at the local university as a research assistant. Her head in books all day, Ginny was sure she loved it. Ron was doing some casual work as a labourer, shifting bricks for a couple of builders. It payed well, but he was always exhausted when he got home, and Hermione often despaired that he never talked to her. Ginny hoped that Hermione wouldn't moan about it for too long today. Her own unpredictable life placed enough stress on her that she might snap, and she really didn't want to argue with Hermione today.

It was a lovely café that they ate at, near the university where Hermione worked. Ginny felt a bit bad that Hermione paid the bill, but the older woman assured her that she would feel worse if she made Ginny pay.

The man behind the counter smiled familiarly as Ginny worked her way through the small café to the two-person table at the back of the room next to the back window. The view looked out onto the University grounds, and Ginny wondered what it would have been like to come to Muggle University and study. A cloud of students meandered into the courtyard, laughing and chatting. Ginny sighed.

Turning away from the window, Ginny saw Hermione enter the shop. Her bushy-haired friend said a few words to the man behind the counter, who smiled and said something back. Then Hermione spotted Ginny, waved and made her way over.

"Hello Ginny! How are you going?" Hermione settled herself into her chair, a bookbag falling to the floor next to her.

"Oh, you know, the same as always," Ginny waved the question off.

Hermione raised an eyebrow. "Nothing much has changed in the past week in the Wizarding world?"

"Not a single thing. Let's eat, I'm starving," Ginny could feel her stomach working, despite its empty state. She was starting to feel nauseous.

"I already ordered, Luke will bring it over in a moment," Hermione replied. Ginny smiled thankfully. "By the way," Hermione began, "I wanted to ask you about this…"

Leaning down to her bookbag, all Ginny could see of her for a few moments was her bushy hair. It certainly gave her character, Ginny smiled, and it looked healthy, opposed to her own dry hair.

"Oh, here it is," Hermione said, emerging from under the table. She pulled up a heavy tome, opened it to a bookmarked page. Turning the book around, Hermione pointed to a picture. "Do you have any idea what that could be? I've been completely unsuccessful researching it Muggle-wise, and I think it might be a Magical symbol."

Ginny peered at it. "You know, Hermione, that you were the Arithmancy girl…" Hermione just nodded. "It might be… You know, it just might be…"

Hermione frowned as Ginny pulled a little book out of a pocket. "It might be what?" She asked impatiently.

"It might be a symbol for good fortune. Luck. Blessings. 'All good things to you,' that sort of thing."

"And you just know that?"

"You were the one asking! I've been doing some reading lately, just to keep my mind awake."

"On paradise pearls?" Hermione said disbelievingly, reading Ginny's notebook upside down.

"Yes; I can look at pretty things, even if I can't afford them, you know."

With a frown, Hermione let it drop. "I'll look into that theory. Oh, here comes our lunch," Hermione lightened up at the sight of her Caesar salad, and Ginny was thankful that the brunette had ordered something more substantial for her.

After some more chit-chat – and a lovely lunch – Hermione excused herself. Ginny was always surprised how quickly an hour disappeared when she had someone to talk with. Hugging Hermione goodbye, Ginny began to wander slowly back towards the bus stop.

It was at moments like this – after having spent an hour chatting with someone who cared about her and for whom she cared – that Ginny realised just how lonely it was, this life she was living. The regulars at the Leaky Cauldron sometimes said a few words to her, but that was rare these days; every person was dealing with their own struggles, and few wanted to talk sober. Some got weepy when drunk, but usually those were too far gone to be comprehensible.

The bus arrived, and it was thankfully less crowded, allowing her to find a seat. Looking out the window, Ginny wondered how she had managed to become so isolated. It was society, she acknowledged, but her parents still had friends who they entertained regularly. Sighing, Ginny looked down at her hands, clutched in her lap.

The burglary, that was the reason. Ever since the notion had planted itself in her brain, she had withdrawn herself from most people, knowing they would ask where the money was coming from… In fact, Snape was the first person to know about it. Ginny snorted in laughter at this realisation. Snape was the person who knew her most, who knew her _little secret_. Ginny sighed as her dark humour ebbed, recognising the despondency that lay beneath it. Maybe she should go straight to her parents' place when she reached the apparition point behind the Leaky Cauldron. It was moods like this that made her do strange and stupid things.


	5. Chapter 5

Molly was bustling around the kitchen when Ginny arrived. "Can you grab that pot for me, love? Just needs to go on the bench… No! On the heat-mat… yes. Ok – in the oven, bread – yes, take it out. On the table. Don't worry about the mat…" Molly paused, pushed her hair out of her face. "Good to see you, love." Ginny smiled back at her beaming mother and then, like the eye of the storm, the calm passed and everything was movement again.

Finally, everything was organised, and Molly sat down with her daughter, cups of tea in their hands. Ginny sipped the comforting brew, sighed as she relaxed into the chair.

"You're over early today, love; is everything ok?" Molly asked, peering at her daughter over the top of her steaming cup.

Ginny forced herself to smile. "Yes, I just wanted some company. You know what it's like in Diagon Alley these days. Oh, and Hermione says hello."

They chatted about Hermione and Ron for a little while, and Molly shared what she'd heard from Ginny's other brothers. "Charlie's still looking after that Golden Genevan, the one he saved from the Russian ministry three months ago." Molly clucked. "Still single, as well. Bill and Fleur bought a nice house in Egypt, hopefully now they'll settle down enough to give me some grandchildren."

Ginny smiled at her mother, genuinely this time. She cared so much for her brothers – and for herself, she knew. Steering the conversation toward the garden, Ginny thought about her other brothers – Percy, who they still didn't talk about; Fred and George… killed, five years ago now. She still found herself missing their jokes, their mischief.

Forcing herself back to the present, Ginny asked about her dad's work trying to get the Ministry back together.

Molly frowned. "He says he's getting somewhere, but I don't really know. Oh, darling, I just… I thought everything would be ok once we got rid of Voldemort." Ginny reached over and held her mother's hand. "Your father believes so strongly in some form of democracy… I'm beginning to wonder if our society will even accept it if he can ever get it off the ground. It's been four and a half years now, and he's made almost no headway. He's still so optimistic… I want to be strong and support him, but it feels so… inevitable that he won't succeed…"

She was interrupted by the front door opening, and with a guilty look, began to change the subject.

"Hi dad," Ginny smiled up at her father as he entered the room.

With a quick kiss on Molly's cheek Arthur smiled at his daughter. "Hi Gin, how are you?"

Ginny smiled back at her father as Molly got up to start fussing over dinner again. "I'm going ok, dad."

"The Leaky Cauldron still treating you ok?"

"Yes, Tom's lovely. I'm so thankful for his insistence that I have a whole day off."

"That's right, you visited Hermione for lunch?"

"Yes, she's doing well. Ron's found work with a pretty reliable company, and they're thinking about buying a house somewhere."

"That's great, I'm glad that they're doing so well." There was a tinge of sadness in Arthur's voice, but before Ginny could ask him about it, Molly called them through for dinner.

Homemade bread was always a treat. The meat – little that there was – was delicious, and the vegetables that Molly grew tasted great. They chattered about inconsequential things – the weather, the wildlife. They steered clear of politics, and of money issues. Once dinner was over, Arthur went into one of the rooms that had now become his study. Molly sighed, and Ginny gave her mother a hug. She could think of nothing else to do.

Sometime after the dishes were done, Ginny found her way into her father's study.

"Are you ok, dad?" She asked from the doorway.

Arthur took of his glasses, pinched the bridge of his nose, then wiped a hand over his balding head. "I guess so, munchkin."

Ginny walked over, sat on Arthur's desk in front of him. "Dad, what's going on?"

His hand smoothed his hair again before he answered. "I just… Nobody's interested. Nobody wants a democracy again. Everyone I speak to seems to think that a centralised government will only bring about the same sort of destruction that we saw with Voldemort. Or the bumbling idiocy that Fudge had, or – even worse – the Military Rule that Scrimgeour introduced. Even Harry… He just wants to sit in his house on the hill, work in his garden and ignore the world. I don't know how much longer I can keep going."

Arthur pulled his daughter onto his lap, held her like he had when she was little. He was silent for a long time, but Ginny could feel his breath hitching and his shoulders working to keep tears inside.

"Daddy," Ginny started, but Arthur cut in.

"I know. Why do I keep doing it? I just… There's no hope, otherwise. I need something to do, or I'll just… fade away." He looked at her, seeking reassurance.

Ginny nodded. "I love you dad," she said quietly.

"I love you, too, Gin."


	6. Chapter 6

It was Friday, and Ginny was rushed off her feet. There was a man at a table in the corner who had complained to Tom that she had not given him his order. He was upset, and Tom had yelled at her for five minutes before telling her that his order would be coming out of her wages.

To top it off, Snape was sitting in another corner, watching her. She knew that he wanted to talk, but, with tears drying on her cheeks, Ginny really didn't care at this moment. The night wore on, and Ginny's feet felt bruised from all the rushing she had to do. Her nerves were shot; arguing with Snape about his stupid assignment was not something she felt like doing tonight.

Nearing eleven thirty at night, the crowd began to thin out. Tom waved her over, and began to apologise for yelling at her. "He was a scammer, dear. You won't have to pay for his meal."

Feeling a little vindicated – though annoyed that Tom hadn't believed her earlier – she cleaned the bar and noticed that Snape was still sitting in the corner, shrouded in his cloak. Huffing, she made her way over.

"You are prepared, I hope?" His black eyes pierced the darkness of the corner and his hood; Ginny just rolled her eyes.

"Yes, I'm prepared. You're here to keep an eye on me?"

Snape glanced around furtively. "I'm here to do something to that ring."

Ginny glanced down at her hand, seeing through the disillusionment charm to the platinum ring still lodged on her finger. "You can't get it off?"

"Would you prefer me to do nothing at all?" He snarled.

"No, of course not. Do whatever you can, by all means." Ginny dismissed his prickliness as nerves – or just Snape-ness.

"I could cut your finger off. I think that would work," there was an evil glint to his eyes that told Ginny that if she pushed it too much, he just might follow through on that. Rolling her eyes again, she held her hand out to him.

Snape pulled a vial out of his pocket, dabbed some of the liquid onto a small white handkerchief – "You owe me a sickle for the handkerchief, by the way," – and rubbed it over the ring.

The ring went from bright and detailed to dull, coppery and plain. Ginny bit back a gasp, staring at the ring.

"It's still the same ring underneath, but nobody should recognise it now." Snape sounded brusque, and Ginny knew that he thought he was being nice. "I don't know how the Malfoy estate will react to the ring, though," he mused.

Ginny started, pulling her hand back. "The estate might react to the ring?"

Snape squinted at her, measuring her up. "Those are strong enchantments on that ring, girl. Even if I could take it off your finger and study it for a month I don't think I could unravel exactly what each of them do. So watch yourself. I want my spoils."

Ginny frowned at her hand. "Are you going to tell me why you, Malfoy's godfather, can't just ask him for this necklace?"

Snape glared at her. "No," he responded.

With a shrug, Ginny replied, "then I guess I'm still your best chance. At least you have no ties to me, so if I get caught you won't get in trouble."

"How… noble of you," he sneered. "How long have you been stealing to support yourself?"

Ginny, despite knowing that Snape couldn't possibly know her history, felt a flush rising up her cheeks. "Long enough to know what I'm doing, thankyou very much. Now if you don't mind, I have to clear some more tables." She stalked off, dragging Snape's tankard with her.

"Looked like a good chat, miss Weasley," Tom commented when she got back to the bar.

With a fake grin, Ginny said, "he was asking about my health. You know those men who just won't stop talking…" Tom nodded, letting the subject go. Ginny didn't know if he was convinced, but – as Tom usually did, which made him such a fantastic barman – he let it go. Ginny glanced back at Snape's table, saw that he had already left, and busied herself with dishes.


	7. Chapter 7

Saturday was a nightmare. Her mind was so distracted, she almost missed her bus stop, rushed in to the café to meet with Hermione, only to realise that she was an hour early. Sitting in their window seat at the very back of the café, Ginny tried to calm her jittering nerves.

The guy behind the counter – what was his name again? – came over and put a coffee on the table. "It's on the house," he said with a smile, which Ginny returned. "You're looking a bit flustered, so drink that and relax." He winked, then went back to what he had been doing.

Had he just flirted with her? Or was he just being nice? Ginny frowned at the coffee, but picked it up and took a sip. It was good, as the coffee here always was.

Looking out the window, Ginny wondered what it would be like to live as a muggle. If Ron could do it, surely she could? But after a few minutes of trying to imagine what it would be like, she gave up. She was incapable of imagining what it would be like; she had no idea how muggles lived.

With a sigh, she pulled out her notebook, went over her plans to get into the Malfoy estate tonight. She'd given her apologies to her parents so that she could meditate before she left – stretch out her muscles and prepare the charms she cast around herself. She looked intently at her sketched map of the estate, nodding at her notes about the guard charms. Her memory was accurate. She turned the page over quickly, muttering her action plan – written on the page in dot points. Stretch. Cast the untraceable charms. Stretch again. Put on the (terribly expensive) leggings, shoes, gloves and jumper. Stretch once more. Ward herself. Apparate. Sprint the five hundred metres, find the window – third storey – and begin to climb. Get the necklace and get out. Carefully. Sighing, Ginny closed the book and her eyes, visualising the process.

Half an hour passed without Ginny's knowledge, and when she opened her eyes again her coffee was cold. She drank it anyway, looked out the window again. There were only a few muggles in the courtyard, sitting on the grass reading textbooks or standing around chatting. What do muggles talk about? Ginny mused. Do they talk about men? Do they talk about their jobs and their friends? Do they complain about their families and politics?

She wished life could be so simple again. She wished she didn't have to worry about where her next meal was coming from, didn't have to flirt with danger to supplement her income. Looking down at her hand – and the brassy-looking ring that adorned it – she wished she had just left the wizarding world – or just Britain – like her brothers had done.

A hand on her shoulder made Ginny jump.

"Oh, goodness Ginny, you're jumpy today!" Hermione exclaimed, brushing past Ginny's chair to take a seat opposite her. Ginny fought to return her breathing to normal.

"Yes, I am. I think that the waiter was flirting with me before," she added.

Hermione glanced over her shoulder. "Really? I always thought he was gay. I ordered for us already.

"Oh, by the way? That symbol I asked you to help me with? It _was_ from the Pacific; but it really didn't have anything to do with blessing or luck. It had more to do with a political system, actually," Hermione went on, not noticing the way that Ginny's gaze had sharpened on her. "Maybe a better translation would be 'utopia' – at least in the mind of the writer." Hermione looked up, and Ginny softened her face quickly.

"That's interesting," she said mildly. Hermione seemed flustered, for she hardly even noticed Ginny's strange behaviour. "What's wrong Hermione?" Ginny asked, surprised when Hermione started.

"Oh…" Hermione couldn't look Ginny in the face, and the redhead was surprised to see a couple of tears falling down the brunette's face. "Ginny, I just…" She was silent for a long time. Ginny fought the urge to growl at the girl to just hurry up already, instead waiting in silence.

"I left Ron," she blurted out, then burst into tears. Ginny stared at the woman as though she had gone mad. Sighing – she wasn't really very good at this sort of thing – she put a hand on Hermione's shoulder across the table.

"What happened?" Ginny asked quietly, almost dreading the answer.

"He…" Hermione hiccupped. "He came home drunk last night. More drunk than usual, that is." Ginny's eyes widened. Hermione had never told her that before. "And he… Oh, god, he wanted to have sex. And I couldn't… just couldn't stand to be in the same room as him. I ran into the bathroom and locked the door. Thankfully he was too drunk to use his wand and I had mine with me. I apparated to mum and dad's. I can't go back," Hermione looked up, her brown eyes narrowed in desperate determination.

"Why didn't you tell anyone before now?" Ginny asked, trying to keep any accusation out of her voice.

Hermione hiccupped a sob again. "How do you tell your husband's family that… that he can't handle living in a world he's never known? That he turns to alcohol for comfort rather than his wife? We never talked except when we were arguing – and we only ever argued when he was drunk. I… Oh, Ginny, I don't know what to do!"

Ginny desperately wanted to wrench her hand back and run away. This was the last thing she needed to deal with in the hours before the hardest theft of her career. But her mother had been very good at teaching her what was appropriate, and it would not be appropriate to leave right now. "Hermione…"

"It was my fault!" Hermione cut in. Ginny glanced around and noticed that the other people in the café were studiously not looking in their direction. Praise English stoicism, Ginny thought. "I… I forced him to leave everything he'd known. I assumed he'd be ok… I should have known when he wouldn't talk to me… I should have taken him to a psychologist…"

"I think you need to see a psychologist," Ginny interrupted. "It's not your fault, Hermione. You weren't completely blameless, that's true; but it's hardly your fault that my brother is an incompetent twit."

Lunch arrived as Hermione stared at Ginny. "Calm down, Hermione," Ginny added. "Everything will work out. Getting yourself all worked up like this won't help you any." Hermione was quiet, looking at her salad for a moment.

"You're right, Ginny. I'm sorry I got so hysterical. I just…" She trailed off.

"You just don't want me to reject you and take my brother's side. I know." Ginny was a little short, and for the first time Hermione noticed.

"Are you ok?" The brunette asked, peering at the other woman's dark under-eye circles and weary expression. Ginny waved off her question, began to eat the steak sandwich that Hermione had ordered for her with great relish.

"I can't remember the last time I ate steak," Ginny murmured around her mouthful.

"I don't think that a lack of steak makes you lose sleep," Hermione pursued. Ginny narrowed her eyes at her friend.

"You don't want to know, Hermione."

But Hermione was rarely halted by being told to back off. "I do want to know," the brunette replied.

"Can you deal with the consequences of knowing?" Ginny asked.

"Consequences of knowing?" Hermione asked, looking a little bewildered.

"Yes," Ginny replied shortly. "Not all knowledge is amoral, Hermione. There are consequences for knowing some things. There is some information that forces you to act, or take sides. If I tell you, you'll never be able to forget, and you'll be forced to take action."

Hermione looked at her friend for a few moments, indecision playing on her face. Then her face resolved into determination. "I want to know what's going on. Even if I have to face the consequences."

Ginny sighed. "I'm going to steal the paradise pearls."

"You're WHAT?" Hermione gasped. "You can't do that!"

Ginny raised an eyebrow, and Hermione struggled to close her mouth.

"Ok. What do you mean, you're going to steal the paradise pearls? Why would you even want to?"

Ginny stared at the woman. "Do you want to know what I eat most days, Hermione? The house stew. Which is mostly water, with a few vegetables. Some bread if the cook's going to throw it out. I don't think you understand just how much the wizarding world is struggling right now. Dad's been trying to sort out some form of ministry to govern, but nobody wants to trust a government. The _rich_ rule our world, Hermione. The rich like Malfoy," Ginny spat. "He prances around, eating steak at lunch and dressing in different robes every day. I want to be able to live. I want to help my family out – Mum's living off her garden, did you know? So, I'm going to take something that belongs to him, so that I can live. Are you going to judge me now, Hermione? Are you going to tell me that I 'shouldn't' because it's 'wrong'? There _are_ no right and wrong in our world. Just the rich and the powerful."

Hermione looked stricken. "I didn't even realise… I'm so sorry Ginny. Is there anything I can do?"

"You can not tell anyone what I'm going to do," Ginny replied. "And you can tell me what you meant about that symbol."

Hermione nodded, then her watch beeped. "Oh, Lord, is that the time? I have to go back to work! I'll… Can I come and see you on Tuesday?"

"I work until ten. Come and see me after that. Tell your parents I said hi," Ginny added, kissing the brunette on the cheek in parting. Hermione rushed off, paid the bill and hurried out of view. Ginny frowned. One more person who knew her secret.


	8. Chapter 8

_A/N: Thankyou to everyone who's reviewed: I really appreciate hearing your thoughts!_

Everything was going smoothly. Ginny jogged the five hundred metres to the side of the enormous brick-walled mansion under the cover of the extensively cultivated gardens, knowing that her shoes would leave no impressions behind. Reaching out to clutch the bricks for purchase, Ginny hoisted herself off the ground. The climb was long, and by the time she'd reached the windowsill her legs and arms were burning, and her chest prickled uncomfortably with sweat.

The charms were the same as before. Ginny unlayered the spells carefully from her precarious position, then clamboured onto the windowsill. She sat there for a few moments, wiping away the sweat that had accumulated in various places on her body – her neck, her back, behind her knees. After resting for a minute, Ginny turned her attention to the window. Carefully banishing the glass, she stared at the room.

The room was filled with jewellery. Little velveteen boxes were stacked atop each other in the corners, and various articles were displayed on ornamental hands and busts. Some were laid on black velvet cloth. Ginny's mouth almost watered at the thought of the money just a representative sample would bring in…

But, Ginny shook herself, she didn't want to be pursued by Malfoy or whoever he hired because he noticed that someone had broken in. She wanted to remain invisible, undetected. So, with darting eyes, she located the strand of lustrous black pearls with the strange symbol etched into a shining golden pendant that dangled from the strand. A quick scan of the room with her wand told her that it would not be noticed if she hovered the item to herself, so she did so quickly, stowing the string in a small pouch and tucking it inside her top. She replaced the wards.

The climb down was excruciating. Ginny's legs were jelly-like from the climb up, and her fingers seemed clumsy. She nearly dislodged herself three times, and the adrenaline that pounded through her body was more a hindrance than a help. Finally, shaking with excitement and exhaustion, she staggered the five hundred metres away from the building so that she could apparate.

It was then that she felt it. Her hand – her left hand – itched terribly, and began to get heavy. Not waiting to find out what on earth was going on, she apparated with a soft hiss, gradually shifting her mass from the Malfoy estate to her room at the Leaky Cauldron.

Falling on her bed, Ginny cast another Undetectable spell, and put her wand away. She put the pearls in a hidden compartment at the back of the drawer of her nightstand. Ginny stared at her hand for a moment, but the ring had stopped itching and her hand was no longer heavy. Despite her desperate need for a shower, Ginny pulled her blankets over herself and fell asleep.


	9. Chapter 9

Ginny groaned as her clock alarm rang her abruptly awake on Sunday morning. It was eight o'clock – she started work at nine. Her arms and legs felt like lead, and her bed seemed far too hot despite the chill she could feel on her face. All she wanted to do was stay in bed the whole day, but she knew she couldn't afford to. Tom would send his wife upstairs to see if she was ok, and she had no real reason to stay in bed – apart from exhaustion for reasons she wanted unknown. Pushing her protesting body upright, she swung her legs over the side of the bed, cringing as her feet brushed the freezing floorboards.

After a shower Ginny felt slightly more alive. Dressing herself in her dowdy waitress' uniform, she ambled down the stairs to the kitchen to see if the cook had any unwanted orders that she could take off her hands. When Ginny arrived in the doorway, however, she was greeted by Tom.

"Ginny, I was wondering if I could speak with you?" The man gave her a gap-toothed smile which did nothing to ease her now-thundering heart. She could not afford to be fired.

"Sure," she managed in a somewhat normal voice. Tom pulled her aside into one of the conference rooms.

"Ginny, you know what life is like around here," he gave her a sad smile. "Everything is so different to what it used to be. My wife and I are having trouble, ah, keeping up with the times. We want to retire to the country."

Ginny's stomach fell. "You're selling the business?"

Tom shook his head. "No, we were wondering if you would like to manage it for us. We still need the income – doesn't everyone, these days? – but in the country we can live on half the profits. You can do what you wish with the remaining half, but it'd have to be better money than the pittance we've been paying you for the years you've been working faithfully for us."

Ginny stared at Tom, nodding her head. "I have no idea how to handle a business like this, but I would love to have a chance. Thank you!" Ginny threw her arms impulsively around Tom, a grin bursting out on her face. The withered old man hugged her back, grinning widely.

Ginny's day got better and better. Her hours of work flew past with no troubles, and when she finished Tom took her aside to show her the books. She could not believe that he was actually giving her the management of the Leaky Cauldron. When Ginny made it back to her bedroom that night, she giggled to herself with joy. Finally, her luck was changing.

:----------:

Monday and Tuesday were also characterised by this newfound luck. In fact, when Hermione arrived to see her at ten fifteen at night, Ginny danced around as she told Hermione how her luck had changed.

"Your luck hasn't really changed," Hermione informed her, sitting on the single bed.

Ginny sat beside her heavily. "What do you mean?"

"Those pearls you stole – you don't have to tell me you did it, I can tell. The enchantment on them is doing all this." Ginny tilted her head, indicating that Hermione should continue.

"Well, it sort of goes like this," Hermione lapsed into lecture mode. "The pearls are imbued with the power to hold power. Well, not just any power: political influence. Malfoy probably didn't even know what they were. They were just spoils for him, another necklace to add to the collection. He would have worn them if he'd known how they worked.

"You've noticed that, ever since the Ministry fell, events have somehow worked themselves out to benefit Malfoy? He made off with quite a bit of the treasure that the Ministry had kept hidden on the lowest floor of the basement. Since then, his views about how society should work have pervaded our community consciousness, which would help explain why your dad's had such a hard run with his new Ministry thing.

"Wearing the pearls are a much better way of getting power and influence. And knowing how they work allows you to use them even more effectively. The Merpeople of the Tahitian islands harvested these pearls under a blue moon on the 29th of February during a lunar eclipse. They then empowered them with this ability to influence, wove them into crowns and gave them to their leaders. Japanese whalers came across one of the crowns in the mouth of a Blue whale, and that became the paradise pearls."

Ginny pursed her lips thoughtfully. Opening her drawer, she pulled the necklace from its hiding place and observed it. She handed it over to Hermione, who turned it over, fiddled with the charm, gave it back. "What are you going to do with it?" Hermione asked.

Ginny shrugged. "Give them to Snape," she replied.

Hermione's jaw dropped. "You can't do that! He'll be just as bad as Malfoy! Except I'll bet he knows how they work… Ginny, think about what you'd do to the Wizarding world!"

"You're being melodramatic, Hermione," Ginny snapped. "Snape's promised me ten percent of the profits of whatever he's doing with them. And he's not all that bad."

Hermione's mouth opened and closed a couple of times, but she couldn't seem to say anything. Finally she found her voice. "Well, take your ten percent of the pearls instead. That way, you can control some of the influence – and not just hand over all of Britain to a Death Eater!"

Ginny rolled her eyes, but she looked at the pearl strands intently. She could do it that way, she supposed. She could give some to her dad, and maybe he'd get his Ministry off the ground. Ginny didn't really know if she wanted another Ministry of Magic, but she loved her father. And she didn't really want Snape to control what England looked like.

Fossicking through her drawer, Ginny found a small pair of scissors. Very carefully, she severed the clasp from the three threads that held the pearls. Counting out fifteen from the 150 pearls, she reattached the clasp to the shortened strings, removing the excess thread. She turned to Hermione.

"I want you to take five," she said. "Give one to Neville; one to Luna if you can find her; one to Hannah Abbot; one to Blaise Zambini and keep one for yourself. Explain it a little bit, make sure they wear them."

Hermione seemed a little startled. "But, don't you want to be able to combat whatever Snape's up to?"

Ginny grinned. "I am," she replied.

:----------:

Snape was there on Wednesday morning, before most people had arrived for their breakfast. He had sent her an owl that morning, telling her he would be there, and expected to take possession of 'the item'.

He didn't look at the necklace twice when she handed them over. He ran his fingers over them, then shoved them into a pocket of his inner jacket. "Perhaps I can call upon you again," Snape drawled, "next time I need some thieving done?"

"Not from Malfoy Manor," she replied, her mind going back to the heaviness she had felt in her hand. "Something recognised me there; I got away, but I do not want to come to its attention again."

Snape inclined his head in acknowledgement, stood to go.

"Excuse me," Ginny stood in his way. "There is the matter of payment?"

He sneered at her. "I will contact you about the payment when this item makes dividends," he spat. Snape pushed past her and left through the back door. Ginny sighed, shook her head and got back to work.


	10. Chapter 10

The Leaky Cauldron had never seen better days. Ginny had found a muggle farmer who sold vegetables to her cheaply, and another who sold her meat at a reasonable price. Finally, food at the Leaky Cauldron was good, and due to the prices, business was booming. Ginny knew it was because of the ten pearls that still resided in a container in her bedroom, but she didn't mind.

Hermione sat in the corner of the pub with a bowl of soup, and Ginny bustled over to sit with her. She grinned as she sat.

"Going well?" Hermione asked unnecessarily. The redhead's eyes were alive again, her hair looked vibrant, and she seemed to be sleeping well. Her gaunt face had filled out a bit with regular meals.

"Of course," Ginny replied, taking in Hermione's straightened hair and new cut. "Yourself?"

Hermione smiled slightly. "Yes, rather."

"Your parents are good?"

Hermione laughed. "They're about ready to kick me out! I don't think they realised how much they've come to appreciate their freedom. I'm looking at a unit down the street. Maybe you'd like to move in with me?"

Ginny considered. "Maybe, but I do like being on the premises. The University is a long way away from here," she added.

Hermione tilted her head. "I've been considering going into business for myself," she said. "I think I've had enough of the Muggle world again."

"Ron's moved back in with mum and dad; you might run into him at Diagon Alley if you come back," she added.

Hermione's face closed for a moment. "I know," she murmured. "But I can't hide forever." She brightened a little. "I've been thinking about doing mail-order things – maybe handy charms, or little potions or something. Perhaps even charmed items!"

Ginny smiled. "Sounds like a good plan; it'll go well for you," she added with a wink. Hermione grinned back.

"So," Ginny moved the conversation on. "Have you got in contact with anyone yet?"

Hermione frowned. "Well, I've spoken with Neville and managed to convince him that it's a good idea. I made a ring for him, and he's wearing it most days. Hannah Abbot was a bit reluctant – she was never really a friend at Hogwarts, and doesn't really trust me very much. But she's wearing it. I'm still trying to track down Luna."

"And Blaise?" Ginny pushed.

Hermione scuffed a shoe under the table. "I don't understand why you insist on involving him. He's…"

"A Slytherin," Ginny broke in. "And we need a _balance_ of power, Hermione; not another monopoly. He was never a Death Eater. It's necessary."

Hermione pouted, and Ginny waited for her to demand that she do it. But Hermione squared her chin, set her shoulders and nodded. "I suppose you're right, Ginny. I'll try to find him. I don't like it, but I suppose it's necessary."

Ginny nodded, then looked back over at the bar. "I've got to go serve, Hermione; I'll see you on Saturday?"

Hermione nodded. "I'll tell you more about the flat then." She stood, gave Ginny some coins, kissed her friend on the cheek and left. Ginny made her way back to the bar, put the coins in the money box and turned to the waiting man.

"How can I help you?" She asked brightly.

The man was tall, even sitting on a stool at the bar, and he had long black hair that was tied back at the nape of his neck. His gaze was piercing as he looked at her.

"Are you Miss Ginevra Weasley?" He asked quietly, forcing her to strain to hear his words.

"Yes," she replied uncertainly. Why would this man know who she was?

"I have a message for you," he said. Ginny's stomach began to clench, and she could feel her heart pounding.

"I would be happy to receive it," she said in the calmest voice she could manage.

"Do you have a private room in which I may deliver it?" The man's black gaze moved over the sparse inhabitants of the pub. Ginny's mind ran over the back rooms of the establishment, and chose one that presented the least chance of the man being able to escape if he chose to knock her out and carry her off.

"This way," she indicated, and led the way behind the bar. She caught the waitress's eye on the way out, and she held up five fingers. Ginny nodded.

They walked up a staircase and into a small private meeting room. Ginny indicated for the man to sit, but he declined with a shake of his head. She shut the door.

"Mr Malfoy would like you to know that someone at this premises trespassed on his property three weeks ago. He wishes for the culprit to be caught and brought to justice."

Ginny could feel her heart in her mouth, and struggled not to let her panic show. "That's terrible!" she exclaimed. "My patrons come from all walks of life, but I never imagined that one would use this place as a basis for illegal activities…" Ginny rubbed a hand over her face. "I will go over the books, see who was here… three weeks ago, did you say? Did you follow the trace to any particular location?"

The man shook his head. "This address was as localised as was possible to trace. Here is the date, and the results of the spells." He handed over a sheet of parchment. Ginny took it, forcing her hands to keep still. She folded the parchment, put it in a pocket.

"I will give it my highest priority. Would you like me to interview the people who were here, or shall I pass that information on to you?"

"You may pass that information on. Send a warded letter via owl post to Seeker at Seeker Services, and I will follow up." Ginny nodded curtly.

"I will do so," she said. "Is there anything else?"

The man stood there for a long moment. He was preternaturally still, and Ginny absurdly thought that he looked like a cat waiting to pounce. But after a long silence, he shook his head. "No, that is all. If you have not contacted me within a fortnight, I will return."

Ginny accepted the warning, and showed him out. Once he had left, she collapsed into a chair – in the kitchen – and shivered for a long time.


	11. Chapter 11

Hermione had bought the flat, Ginny found out when her brown-haired friend arrived on the doorstep of the Leaky Cauldron, suitcases in hand, on Saturday morning.

"I just can't stay with mum and dad anymore," the woman sighed as Ginny showed her in. "Settlement is in two weeks. I'm happy to help out around here, if you want. Otherwise, I'll pay my way," she added, though Ginny could sense an unease that she was used to in Hermione's shoulders – the unease that accompanied the inability to pay for things.

"Sure, you can help out here Hermione. How much did that flat cost you, anyway?" she asked casually as she picked up her friend's second suitcase and began walking her upstairs.

"Everything I had!" Hermione exclaimed, shaking her head. "But it's completely owned, debt free. It's worth it, I just need to find a few more Galleons to start up the business."

Ginny nodded, opening one of the second floor bedrooms for Hermione. "I'm next door, now."

"You moved down from that dingy third floor room?" Hermione asked.

"Yes, as soon as I could. Second floor rooms have ensuites," she explained.

Hermione sat on the double bed, dropped the suitcase next on the floor. "Thankyou, Ginny. I hope I'm not too much trouble."

Ginny met her friend's eye. "You're not too much trouble, Hermione. I'll put you to work soon enough," she added slyly, with a smile.

"Oh, I'll bet you will," Hermione replied with a half-hearted smile.

"I'll leave you to get settled in. I'm in room three if you need me." Ginny smiled at her friend, who nodded. "Dinner's on the house," she added, and tried not to notice the relief that the brunette exuded. Closing the door behind herself, Ginny wondered how Hermione was going to earn those dollars to get herself set up. One of the waitresses was waiting for her at the bottom of the stairs to tell her that the barman hadn't shown up today, and Ginny's thoughts were pushed to the backburner as she dealt with the day-to-day running of her pub.

When they evening arrived – and the barman for the evening shift – Ginny had a chance to sit down and think over her other problem: Malfoy's discovery that someone had trespassed on his property. With the House dinner in front of her – Lamb chops, mashed potato and new season beans with gravy – she went over the books to see who had been staying in the Leaky Cauldron on the night she had stolen the Paradise Pearls.

Three people, she discovered to her dismay. Herself, Tom and his wife. She could hardly let either of them take the punishment for her actions. With the book open in front of her, the piece of paper detailing the findings of the sorcery that had been applied, and a whole lot of disquiet, Ginny tried to figure out what to do.

A noise from the doorway behind her made Ginny jump.

"Relax, it's just me," Hermione said as she came and sat with her friend. "What are you looking at?"

Ginny rubbed her face wearily and explained. Hermione's eyes widened in surprise, before she turned her gaze on the book.

"Well, those rooms aren't the only ones you rent out, are they?" the brunette asked. "You rent out the meeting rooms as well. What's on that page."

Ginny turned over to that section of the book. The schedule was clear also. Hermione grinned in triumph.

"What are you grinning at?" Ginny grumped.

"Anyone can get into those rooms, can't they? Just say that someone snuck in to cover their tracks."

Ginny mulled the idea over. "That might work. Until I let that guy in here, and he doesn't find any magical residue in any of the rooms."

Hermione pursed her lips. "I think I can manufacture that. Maybe." They sat in silence for a few minutes.

"Are you going to tell Snape?" the brunette finally asked.

Ginny groaned. She hadn't even thought of it. But now that Hermione had brought it up, she knew she would have to. "I suppose I'd better."

Pulling a sheet of parchment out, Ginny scrawled a short note about wanting to have morning tea tomorrow, addressed it and sent it off with a waiting owl. Hermione just watched this process.

"Are you going to write to that guy today as well?" Hermione asked. Ginny shook her head.

"I'll wait to see what Snape's got to say first. Are you going to do those charms in the meeting room?"

Hermione considered. "I think I'll wait to see what Snape says as well. He might know some better spells to use."

Ginny shrugged. "If you think he'll tell you." The redhead stood. "I need to sleep. This is all too much excitement for me. See you in the morning," she said as she hugged her friend. Hermione just nodded.


	12. Chapter 12

The morning dawned too soon for Ginny, but the flimsy cloth that covered her east-facing window did little to dim the rare early spring sun. Tossing and turning for half an hour did little to improve her mood, so she wrenched herself from her warm blankets and shuffled to the shower to prepare for the day.

Warm clothes and a hot cup of tea in her hand helped her mood lighten slightly. She sat in the kitchen with Maude – the cook – chatting lightly. Hermione appeared in the doorway within minutes of her own arrival, though the brunette looked as though she had had far fewer hours' sleep. She was soon buried in a cup of coffee, refusing to make eye contact with anyone for fifteen minutes. Slowly, she woke up, relaxing her shoulders until she was looking everyone in the eye and participating in the conversation. Maude offered them porridge, but Ginny couldn't face it. Her stomach was tight with knots of worry about what Snape would say – and worse, what the man Malfoy had hired would discover if – when – she let him onto the premises again.

Their small female gathering was interrupted half an hour later by the disgruntled arrival of Snape. "Coffee," he barked at Maude, and continued with, "now!" when she lagged at his rude tone. Sniffing, she bustled about with an affronted air; Snape ignored her until he had finished his first cup, then shoved the cup in her direction once more for a refill. Maude gave the other two women a longsuffering look, then shooed them all from her kitchen. Ginny led the other two to a small private room behind the kitchen.

"What mess have you got yourself into now?" Snape grated, dropping himself into the comfortable chair in the corner – the only chair in the room. Hermione opened her mouth to say something, but a warning look from Ginny made her close it. Snape gave the brunette a glare. "And why is she here?"

"She is here because I want her to be. I told you that something recognised my presence on the Malfoy grounds; now Malfoy has hired someone to discover who trespassed on his property."

Surprisingly, Snape merely ground his teeth together before replying, "fine. Who has he hired?"

"Seeker Services."

Snape hissed, stood abruptly and began to pace. "Who at Seeker Services?"

"He said to address my findings to Seeker at Seeker Services."

The unattractive man growled, and his pacing became more furious. As swiftly as he had started, he stopped, rounding on her. "He did tracking spells?"

"Yes; the results are here." Ginny waved for Hermione to hand over the pieces of parchment which the brunette did with little grace. Snape sat down again, read over the numbers and symbols that meant little to Ginny.

"His spells are top-notch," Hermione said to Ginny quietly. "And his results are quite accurate. Let him in here and he will know exactly what spells were used, where they were used and when. And he will know exactly who. They are amazing spells, actually; though I wish for your sake that he was not quite so clever."

Snape thrust the parchment back at Hermione. "Well, Miss Granger; what _cleverness_ do you propose to do to misdirect him?"

Hermione narrowed her eyes, but Ginny's hand on her arm reminded her to be civil. "I was thinking false spells, with an aging spell over the top. But after reading his report…" She fell silent.

Snape stood again, resumed his pacing, occasionally casting an angry glance at the women, muttering under his breath. Hermione looked as though she might explode at any moment, but Ginny felt a strange sort of peace. Snape would think of something – this affected him as much as her.

In mid-stride, Snape swirled to face the two women. "This is what we will do. In a room – this room will do – we will remove all traces of magic. Every residue, gone. Your story will be that someone stole in here at night, must have performed their deed, then cleansed the room. It is a stupid thing to do, because the traces still lead here, and a room devoid of magic draws as much attention as a gaping hole in pavement. A few cleaning charms – aged – will look like it has been a while since it was cleansed. Compile a list of patrons who were in the establishment on the night – as complete as possible – but add the name of… some annoying female. Pansy Parkinson, or some such. Someone who would want a hold over Malfoy. If that," he waved a hand at Ginny's brassy-looking ring, "attracted his attention, we will see to it that he thinks someone took it for the purpose it was intended." His glare was pointed.

"Well?" Ginny retaliated, "get to casting then!" Snape bared his teeth, grimaced at himself, turned away and Ginny thought she heard him mutter, "…bring out the worst in me." Ginny got to the doorway with Hermione in her wake when Snape spoke again.

"Miss Granger; where do you think you're going?" Both women turned to look at him. Hermione gave Ginny a panicked look. Ginny turned to Snape, waiting for him to expand on his demand. Wand bared, he indicated at Hermione. "Get your wand out, girl. I'm not doing this all by myself."

"G… Ginny, too?" Hermione stammered, shooting a desperate glance at her friend. Ginny wondered where her friend's backbone had gone. Once, the brunette would have stood before Voldemort himself with defiance.

"That girl has brought me enough trouble. She should be off looking after her business anyway." Snape glared at her with black eyes. She just shrugged.

"Don't let him bully you, Hermione. I do have to get back to the bar. I'll bring you lunch in a few hours." Hermione's expression was tragic, but Ginny ignored it. Snape was nasty but reasonably fair. He would goad her more than actually injure her. And her spell-work was outstanding.

The bar was quiet that morning, but by lunchtime more patrons arrived for the well-priced food and a glass of beer. When the waitress arrived, Ginny excused herself to take food to Snape and Hermione.

Silence greeted her as she walked in with food. Hermione was glaring at Snape; Snape was wearing an amused expression. Ginny cleared her throat. Hermione jumped, then rushed over to take her plate. Snape seemed unruffled, seated himself in the chair and waited for Ginny to bring his food over. A questioning look to Hermione was answered with a small shake of her head. She didn't want to talk about it. Ginny shrugged.

"How is it going?" she asked generally.

"Well enough," Snape replied. Hermione glared at him, before adding, "some strong magic has been performed in here. It's taking a while to get out. And we have to be careful not to disturb the secrecy enchantments that are built into the building materials. I'm nearly finished, though."

Ginny nodded. "I'll leave you to it, then." She retreated quickly. The tension was high enough without her adding to it. Closing the door behind her, Ginny went back to help with lunch at the bar.

Three hours later, Snape found her in the kitchen again, peeling potatoes for Maude. "How did it go?" she asked conversationally.

"It is done. You should send word to…" he looked at Maude, who ignored him. "Miss Granger should be along soon. I will deduct the cost of today from the dividends of your delivery." There was a malicious sparkle in his eye that said he wanted her to get upset about this. However unfair she thought it, Ginny refused to give him the reaction he wanted.

"Thankyou, I am pleased that this has been dealt with so quickly. Have a good evening," she said, then turned back to her potatoes. She could almost hear Snape's grinding teeth from where she was sitting. He refrained from commenting further, however, and Ginny grinned as she heard his every heavy step to the bar. Maude chuckled at her. "You are teaching him manners that his mother ought have," the older woman told her. Ginny returned her grin. "Don't tell him; he'll fight harder if he knows what I'm doing." Maude grinned along with her.

Hermione stumbled into the kitchen, dirt on her jeans and face, her hair a mess. "Snape's already gone?" she gasped. She wiped sweat off her forehead. Ginny nodded. "I'm going to kill that man the next time I see him. Once I'd finished with the cleansing – that he barely helped with, mind – he dumped a _tonne_ of dirt on me! Grinned at me, told me to clean it up. I am going to _kill_ him!"

Maude bustled over with a wet cloth. "You did use your wand, didn't you?"

Hermione smiled a wry smile. "After a few minutes." She raised her hands hopelessly. "Muggleborn," she added. Maude clucked her tongue, wiped Hermione's face clean.

"Did you finish?" Ginny asked carefully. Hermione looked at her strangely until she caught what Ginny was actually asking.

"Yes," she replied, now wiping her jeans clean with the damp cloth Maude had finally handed over, "nobody would guess that the place was filled with dust just ten minutes ago. It looks like it's been clean for weeks."

Ginny nodded in appreciation. Hermione fell onto the muffin and tea that Maude brought to her as though she hadn't eaten for weeks. "I hope I never see him again," Hermione managed to say around her food. Maude nodded in agreement. Ginny nodded also, but thought that there were worse people who could turn up.

"I had better get onto some correspondence," Ginny said, finishing the potato she had been peeling and putting the knife down.

"Thankyou for the help," Maude smiled. Hermione, finished her food and sipping her tea, added, "I'll take over once I've finished this," she lifted her mug.

"Don't be silly," Maude began, but Hermione put on a stubborn face and Maude gave up before she began. Ginny left them to it.


	13. Chapter 13

The quiet, dark haired man appeared the next day in reply to Ginny's letter. She greeted him and ushered him through to the room. He waved her away, and she went to fret whilst washing dishes. An hour later, he returned.

"This list of clients is complete?" he asked. She nodded in return.

"As complete as I could make it."

He nodded. "I will take this information to Mr Malfoy. You may hear from him at a later date. Thankyou for your cooperation."

Ginny saw him out, collapsing on a stool at the bar once he was gone. Her knees trembled, and she could barely hold the mug of coffee that Maude brought to her. There were questions in the woman's eyes, but Ginny was grateful that she didn't ask them.

Time wore the adrenaline away, and Ginny got on with the tasks associated with running the pub. Hermione came downstairs mid-morning, and Ginny put her to work in the kitchen with Maude. The increased clientele meant the woman was almost overwhelmed, however stubbornly she insisted that she didn't need help.

Late afternoon saw the two women relaxing in a back room in the lull before supper.

"It went ok this morning?" Hermione asked, pushing a strand of hair that had worked its way out of her ponytail off her face.

Ginny grimaced. "It's done. I think he suspected something, but I may just be expecting to be caught. I always got the same feeling when I was playing pranks with the twins…"

Memories caught her for a moment, bittersweet memories of happiness that her brothers had caused before they had been killed. Everyone had cried at the funeral – the whole wizarding world, it seemed. Even in the midst of battles with Death Eaters, Fred and George had found some way to laugh, some mischief to spread. And the world seemed a bleaker place without them.

Ginny shook herself. Hermione was looking at her warily, unsure of what to say. Ginny managed a weak smile. "It went fine. Now, let's just forget about it, and get on with running this pub."

Hermione nodded, and the women busied themselves preparing food for supper.

Sometime after the supper rush had subsided, Snape appeared in the doorway. Hermione flinched visibly, but Ginny faced him with a calm smile. Her mother would have been impressed, she was sure. He sat himself down at the table they were occupying, gave Hermione a nasty grin and turned to Ginny.

"Seeker was satisfied with the results?" He kept his voice low, Ginny wondered who he was worried would overhear.

"Yes," she replied softly, "though I am not sure if his employer will be satisfied with him. We will have to see what happens." Snape nodded at her once. "Would you like some food?" Ginny offered, and Snape nodded again. Hermione sent a desperate glance to her, but Ginny pretended she hadn't seen it. She left to get some dinner for Snape.

When she was returning, she paused at the bar to watch the man. He was gaunt, his skin looked as though it needed a few good weeks in the sun, and his clothes still appeared to need a wash. He was grinning slightly as he threw comments at Hermione: her friend's temper seemed to be about to burst through. Her replies were short and her jaw was set in a stubborn way. Ginny grinned as Hermione slapped the man. She looked as shocked as he was, and began apologising immediately, but Snape laughed at her. Hermione's expression began to turn dark again, and Ginny decided to save her friend.

"Here's your dinner, Snape. I hope you've been playing nice since I left?" she asked lightly. Snape raised an eyebrow at her and began to eat as though he hadn't eaten since yesterday. Ginny supposed that he might not have. Hermione said nothing either, her jaw set and her hands clenched in her lap. Ginny began a light conversation with Hermione, drawing her out of her defensive mood and finally making her laugh.

When Snape finished his dinner, he pushed the plate toward Hermione and waved a hand at her. The brunette stopped mid-sentence, glared, gave Ginny a longsuffering look before taking the plate away.

"You do know how my brother treated her, don't you." Ginny gave the man a long, even look. He met her gaze blandly.

"I am aware. She is… tame, compared with her youthful self." His eyes traced Hermione's path to the kitchen, then returned to regard Ginny. "I may return next week. If you encounter any more problems with… our contract… then I expect to be contacted."

"Of course. When you return, I will feed you again. You look as though you need it," she replied. Snape gave himself a derisive glance, and shrugged an awkward shoulder before he drew his composure around himself again and glared at her. Ginny just smiled calmly and waved goodbye. The man stood abruptly and left.

Hermione returned from the kitchen. "Oh, good, he's gone," she sighed. Ginny gave her friend a warm smile.

"Now that the immanent crisis is over, we need to get back to distributing those pearls."

Hermione perked up, frowned and ticked off people on her mental list. "Neville and Hannah have one; we don't know where Luna is; Blaise still needs one. Then I've got one and you've still got ten."

Ginny nodded. "I'm going to give one to Susan Bones, one to my dad; maybe one to Harry, if he'll let us visit him. One to Zacharias Smith, one to Justin Finch-Fletchley." She trailed off, trying to think of more people she felt safe giving the powerful artefacts to.

Hermione pursed her lips. "That's quite a list to start with. We can find some more people after we finish with these ones. Maybe it's a better idea to give the pearl to your mum, not your dad… He's a great man, but…" Hermione trailed off, looking guilty.

"He's a bit idealistic," Ginny finished for her. "You're right. Mum's the more practical option. Well, we can start on that tomorrow. I think I'll turn in now." Hermione stood and gave her friend a kiss on the cheek in parting.

"I need some rest as well, especially after dealing with Snape tonight…" She shook her head. Then she gave her friend a rueful smile. "It's almost fun, yelling at him. It's a good release." Shaking her head at herself, she went up the stairs before Ginny. It was probably for the best, because Ginny wasn't quite sure if she was keeping the grin off her face.


	14. Chapter 14

Ginny was having coffee with Harry Potter, the saviour of the wizarding world. It had taken five letters to convince him to allow her into his sanctum – a tiny two-room house surrounded by a large garden filled with chickens, vegetables and fruit trees. Harry sat awkwardly, looking everywhere but her face. She sighed.

"Harry, I've come here for your help." Ginny knew it was not the best way to introduce the subject, but it was sure to get results. Even now, Harry found it hard to say no to people who needed help. Which was why he secluded himself away from everyone who might ask.

Harry scrubbed a hand through his hair. "I thought you might be. What am I supposed to do this time, Ginny?" His shoulders were slumped, and his face was lined more than it had been last time she had seen him.

"I'd like you to wear this for me." She held up the earring she had made: she had covered the pearl with a thin layer of gold, assured by Hermione that it would not change the effectiveness of the magic. Harry took the earring warily.

"What strings are attached with this?"

Ginny fought the urge to sigh. "None, Harry. Just wear it. It's got a bit of a charm on it to make you happy, but it's nothing intrusive."

"Nothing like sixth year, hey," he mumbled, barely loud enough for her to hear; but she did, and she knew she was supposed to. She sat still and waited while Harry turned the golden bauble over. With a sigh, Harry waved his wand at his earlobe, then threaded the earring through the hole he had created.

"There, done. I suppose you've charmed it so I can't take it off?" His look was accusing, but at least he was looking at her face now.

"No, Harry. You can take it off whenever you want to."

Harry peered into her face, but saw only weariness. He shrugged, finished his cup of coffee in one motion. "Anything else I can _help_ with?"

Ginny bit her cheek to keep from speaking sternly at the man. "Well, you can tell me where Luna is."

-----

Hermione grinned despite herself. She had been talking with Blaise Zabini for three quarters of an hour, and had barely noticed the time passing. His smile was quick and surprisingly white against his dark skin, and his jokes were even quicker and more surprising. She hadn't told him why she was there, yet, and he hadn't asked.

While she was taking a sip of tea, Blaise leant in closer to her. "I wonder, Miss Granger, if we will ever get around to talking about what it is you came for." His tone was light, and the sparkle in his eye told her he was curious. Putting her cup down, she began to consider her words.

"Mr Zambini," she began, then laughed at the face he pulled. She continued, "I have a proposition for you."

He gave her a look that made her skin tingle, and she rushed on before she could consider it. "I have recently come into possession of quite a rare article – one which brings good fortune. But I am not a selfish person, and I… want to share the luck." She held up the gold earring for him to consider.

Blaise took the gold drop from her fingers, making more contact than he needed to. He didn't seem to notice, however; he was intent on the earring. Turning it over in his hand, he pinned her with a direct look that wasn't as friendly as he had been.

"I know what this is, despite its disguise. I also know what would happen if certain of my… friends… discovered that I was in possession of it."

Hermione clung to the hem of her top. She forced her face to remain calm, though she wasn't sure she was succeeding. "It is important that these items are spread among many different people, of different backgrounds and beliefs. Much damage was caused by one political group holding all influence for a long time."

Blaise examined the earring for long, silent moments before he met Hermione's gaze again. "Miss Granger, I will wear this item. I hope that my… friend… will not notice. But I want something in return."

_Slytherin_, Hermione thought as she fought to keep herself calm. "I will do my best, but I can't promise anything before I know what it is you want."

A sly grin touched his face, then was gone. "I would like to take you out for dinner. And I would like to get in contact with my former head of House."

Hermione's gaze fell to her lap. Go out for dinner? Well, he was charming enough. A glance at her left hand reassured her that Ron wouldn't mind. He was gone from her life. And Snape… she could get in contact with him, though she dreaded the thought. But they needed him to wear that pearl.

Hermione met Blaise' dark eyes. "I would love to go out to dinner with you. And I will see what I can do about your former head of House." He nodded, and escorted her to the door.


	15. Chapter 15

Ginny was seated on an overstuffed couch, awkwardly balancing her teacup on her knee because the table was overflowing with magazines.

"I'm surprised you've even got a teacup, Zacharias!" Ginny smiled up at the former Hufflepuff's embarrassed face.

"Me mum makes me use it when she comes round. Says I need to have some proper crockery for her. Never needed it when I was a kid, but now I've moved out of home…" he shrugged.

"My mother never even visits me!" Ginny returned, "says that if I live at a pub, she'll visit me as often as she visits the pub… which is about never." Laughing, she sipped her tea whilst Zacharias moved some papers off a chair so that he could sit down.

"So, to what do I owe the pleasure, then? This's not just a social call?"

Ginny smiled calmly. "I've got a proposition for you."

Zacharias lifted an eyebrow, glanced around at his tiny sitting room, then returned his gaze to meet Ginny's. "Don't seem to have much to lose, you know."

"Wear this," Ginny fumbled as she handed over the earring. "It'll bring you some pretty good luck, and it'll help me out."

Turning the earring over, Zacharias grinned. "Should have you over for tea more often, if you bring jewellery round all the time!" He took out a piercing that Ginny hadn't seen before – on the top of his ear, almost lost in the curl of his ear ridge – and replaced it with the gold ball. "Fits pretty good," he patted his ear, and Ginny nodded when she realised that it could hardly be seen there.

"Looks good," Ginny smiled, and she continued the polite conversation until her tea was finished, and Zacharias indicated that he had somewhere else to be. It was nice to see that, for some people, life was normal.

------

Slumped on her bed next to Hermione, Ginny let out an exhausted sigh. "Talking with Harry… was like pulling teeth. Why didn't you want to go?"

"Seriously, Ginny… He never would have agreed to see me. Not even if I'd promised that all I wanted to do was chat. All he sees when he sees me is the past, and Harry doesn't like to be reminded of the past." Hermione pushed her hair out of her face. "And I don't know why you insisted on me visiting Blaise Zabini…" Hermione may have embellished the story slightly when she informed Ginny of what happened, but Ginny laughed so loudly when Hermione finished that the brunette decided it was justified.

"How utterly… Slytherin! Where's he going to take you?" Ginny choked out around her guffaws.

Hermione shrugged open-handedly, flopping down to lay on the bed beside her friend. "I have no idea. Merlin, why did I even agree? Ron would…"

Ginny stopped laughing, sat up, and pinned her friend with a direct look. "Hermione, Ron is an arse. You haven't worn your ring in five months, and I've never seen you happier. You said yes to Blaise because it's nice to be liked. I'm pretty sure Blaise knows you're not too serious – and not too interested in him! From what I've heard, the man runs at the first whiff of commitment. Pansy tried to get her claws into him, and he took off to the Mediterranean for a year!"

"I suppose you're right. I bet he didn't expect me to say yes, just wanted to get in contact with Snape. I'm so gullible." Hermione sat up as well. "I should do that, I suppose."

Ginny grabbed her friend's wrist as she made to get up. "Girl, he liked what he saw. Don't you mope about because he's a playboy. Enjoy your dinner with him, laugh, have a good time, and forget the past."

Hermione met her friend's eyes, tried to smile and failed, then rushed from the room. Ginny suspected that she'd been about to cry. Shaking her head slowly to herself, Ginny rolled under her covers and was asleep before the sheets warmed up.


	16. Chapter 16

It had been months since Ginny had been home to visit her parents; she had been so busy with getting the Leaky Cauldron working properly, she just hadn't had time. So it was with bemusement that she walked down from the main road watching Ron digging in the garden with her mother.

Leaning on the garden fence, Ginny smiled at her mother, who looked up as Ginny's shadow fell on the soil in front of her.

"Ginny, dear!" Molly got to her feet, brushed her knees off and pulled her gloves off, and rushed to hug her daughter. "You look great," she added, as she pulled back from her daughter to inspect her face. "But a little pale. We should get you in the garden more!" Molly included Ron in her words, looking over her shoulder. Ron was standing now as well, and he wandered over as Molly let Ginny go with a goofy grin on his face.

"Nah," Ron replied to his mother. "She couldn't tell the weeds from the plants; we'd be here all week after she'd gone planting everything again."

Ginny smiled at her brother. He seemed well, his skin slightly reddened on his nose but tanned on his arms and shoulders that were left bare by his singlet. She gave him a hug, then pulled back, wrinkling her nose. "Ugh, Ron, really – there's a shower inside; you should use it sometimes." She ruined her insult by smiling, and he grinned back.

"I suppose we should go inside and have some lunch. Come along kids," Molly smiled, adjusted her hat and picked up her basket then turned and led the way back to the house.

Ron hung back a little, and Ginny waited to walk in with him.

"Have… Have you seen Hermione?" He wouldn't meet her eyes, instead looking over the garden bed that he had been working in.

Ginny paused. "Yes, I have."

"And she's told you that… That she left me?"

"Yes."

"Did she tell you why?" He still wasn't displaying his usual temper, and Ginny wondered why.

"She did tell me a couple of things. That you've been drinking. That you weren't communicating with each other. That she blames herself. That she's moving on with her life."

Ron's shoulders fell, and if Ginny could have seen she supposed his face fell as well. "Gods, I've been such an idiot." He looked over at his sister. "I just… I don't even know why I'm trying to justify this to you. I know that I've hurt her so bad she'll never come back. She's all I've wanted for so long, I thought that I could handle anything, just to be with her. But… It's so different, living muggle. It seems like everything's harder. Even our relationship was harder. And the drinking… Things were easier when I drank. I didn't have to face anything."

"Mum won't let you drink in the house?"

"Or out of it, if I'm living here. It's about a million times worse. To know that there's an escape, and not be able to use it…" Ron rubbed a hand through his hair, and if the moment had been lighter Ginny would have laughed at the rain of dust that he caused.

As it was, she leaned closer to her brother and put her arm around his shoulder. "Do you think she'll ever forgive me?" Ron asked, leaning his head on Ginny's.

"I think she will, but I don't think she'll ever be your wife again."

She felt him nod, and knew that he couldn't trust his voice. After a moment, he asked, "Do you think she'll ever be my friend again?"

"Maybe," Ginny replied, and hugged her brother tighter.

Ginny's afternoon at the Burrow reminded her how much she loved her childhood home. Her father came down for lunch, and she succeeded – after fifteen minutes of trying – in making him smile, which lessened the deep lines that had etched themselves into his cheeks and forehead. Her mother insisted in feeding them all huge salad sandwiches – despite Ginny's protestations that she'd grow fat – and glasses of homemade lemonade. They chattered away, and Ginny enjoyed telling her family how she was managing the Leaky Cauldron.

When lunch finished and her father went back upstairs, Ginny volunteered to do dishes with her mother. Ron jumped at the chance to be rid of the chore and left quickly with a grin on his face, indicating that Ginny had no chance to change her mind now. Ginny just collected up the dishes calmly whilst her mother ran the water.

"I'm glad you came home, Ginny. Ron's been moping around the house, and your father… Well, it's good to have a happy face around here." Molly rinsed a plate and set it on the rack.

"It does seem like everything's been going bad. I'm sure things will pick up soon, though. I mean, look how my luck's changed. From barely surviving at the Leaky Cauldron as a waitress, now it's one of the most popular establishments in the Diagon Alley area."

Molly cleaned dishes for long moments in silence. "Darling, you're still young. Events have helped you to keep an optimistic outlook. I've been digging in the dirt to be able to eat for years, now. I'm… I think I'll be digging in the dirt for the rest of my life." Her shoulders slumped as she put the cleaned porridge pot on the rack, and Ginny felt her heart ache for her mother. She pulled the earring box out of her pocket.

"Mum, I've been… trying some spells, some charms that will help your luck. I know that it's not much, and it's not assured or anything, but if you wear these earrings… it might help a bit."

Molly looked at the earrings – gold covered, like the others. "Darling, I could sell these…"

"Mum, please, just wear them for a while. They'll make you feel a bit special if nothing more. They're a present." Ginny gave the earrings to her mother.

Molly looked at the gold spheres. "Gin, I… Ok, I'll wear them. Here, help me put them in."

The earrings looked good on Molly's tanned earlobes, and the mirror told her so. She shushed it, then gave Ginny a small grin. "It does feel nice to be spoiled a little. But don't think this gets you out of helping to prepare dinner!"

Ginny grinned back at her mother and flourished the paring knife. "Where are the potatoes?"


	17. Chapter 17

Hermione met Ginny at the door when Ginny returned from her parent's house. Her hair had flown free from her pony tail in several places – presumably from pushing it back from her face in that nervous gesture she made.

"Ginny, Ginny… You need to… Oh, come through here…" Hermione grabbed Ginny's hand and all but dragged her through the moderately populated room to the back of the establishment.

Once out of sight of the customers, Ginny yanked her hand from Hermione's vice-grip and hissed, "what the hell are you doing, woman?"

Hermione started, turned to look at her friend and Ginny could see the terror plain on the woman's face. "Ginny, Draco Malfoy is here. He's… He's in the room. Came with Seeker, but he left about half an hour ago. Malfoy's just sitting there, staring at the walls… Gods, Ginny, I don't know what to do!"

"You pull yourself together, Hermione, that's what. Stand up straight. For goodness sake, you're all in pieces. Calm down and follow me and we'll see what he wants." Ginny could feel her hands beginning to shake and her heart was beating a million miles an hour but she put on an aloof face and strode confidently to the room Hermione and Snape had cleaned over a month ago.

Ginny gave a cursory tap on the door as she stepped into the room. Draco Malfoy – all blond hair and pale skin – stood as she entered.

"Ah, Ms Weasley. Just who I wanted to see." Ginny extended her hand and Malfoy took it and kissed it. He held it a moment longer than he needed to, and a puzzled look passed his face before it was gone, replaced by his signature bored smile. "Seeker told me that this room has some history. That a patron of yours apparated from this room to my estate – and returned to this room. But he did also say that he could not be entirely sure, as he was arguing from silence. The room had been cleaned – meticulously."

Ginny raised an eyebrow. "Does this rambling story of yours have a purpose, Mr Malfoy? I have participated with your hired man's investigations openly."

Malfoy waved a hand. "That is nothing. The list of patrons was not overly long, and all had alibis. Tom and his wife have convinced me that they were not responsible. That leaves you, Ms Weasley."

Ginny shrugged. "Again, an argument from silence. I was working. And after working, I was sleeping. Any person may have slipped in unnoticed and closed themselves in this room until the place was asleep."

Malfoy narrowed his eyes. Ginny wondered if he had expected her to confess. "Ms Weasley, do you usually neglect to check these rooms on closing up?"

"Mr Malfoy, nobody had hired the room. The door was closed. To check every room in this establishment before retiring would keep me from bed for a further hour after closing. I do like my beauty sleep."

Malfoy's mouth quirked, Ginny got the impression that he had resisted the urge to tell her that she needed her beauty sleep. Well, at the time she definitely had.

"I suppose that answers all my questions. See me out." Malfoy strode toward her – toward the door. Ginny stepped aside and allowed him to precede her. He fell in step alongside her as she closed the door and waved Hermione away.

"You have done well with the establishment, Ms Weasley. Business is picking up, I see."

"I found a better source for my produce, enabling me to sell better food for the same price. People have enjoyed a return to prices of yesterday."

"And you've cleaned it up a bit. Even the floor seems cleaner."

"Yes, magic has its uses, I've discovered."

They had reached the front door. Malfoy turned to face her. "Thankyou for the tour of your establishment."

"My privilege, Mr Malfoy," she said, automatically extending her hand. As she looked down at it, she felt her heart stop. Her left hand was right in front of Malfoy's face. She immediately placed the puzzled look from a few minutes previous. The copper band which so innocently rested on her ring finger tingled a little and she desperately hoped that her hands weren't shaking too badly. Malfoy kissed the hand lightly and stood straight again, curiosity fleeing from his face. She nodded once and he left.

Somehow she made it the few meters to the kitchen, where she collapsed onto a stool and sat, shivering uncontrollably, for the next half hour.


	18. Chapter 18

Snape was there the next day. Hermione was waitressing lunch, rushed off her feet, and when she returned to the kitchen with a plate still filled with food and a face full of fury, Ginny had to bite her tongue – hard – to keep from laughing.

Hermione slammed the plate down on the bench, a few peas jumped off the plate, and she turned to Maude. "He says it's too rare. Steak! Too rare! There's no such thing…"

Maude – rushing already – spared the meat no more than a glance and a shrug of her shoulder. Ginny finished the meal she had been arranging, put it up for the other waitress, then took Snape's steak. She put it on the grill and turned to Hermione.

"I should invite Snape over more often," she teased. "I haven't seen you this full of life for weeks."

Hermione huffed, shot her friend a glare and hustled out of the kitchen with another meal for another table. Ginny turned the steak, replaced it on the plate and put it up again. Hermione glared at the plate when she returned, turned the glare to Ginny, then flounced away.

"Maude, I am hiring someone to help you," Ginny said to the middle-aged witch who was levitating vegetables out of the boiling water in which they had been cooking and dropping them onto plates.

"Fine, just make sure whoever it is has some sort of skill!" Ginny ducked as meat whizzed off the grill and onto plates, then moved out of the way as the plates flew to the counter. The bell rang, and Hermione picked up the plates to take them out.

When the lunch rush finished, Ginny hung up her apron, washed her hands and went out to see Snape.

He was in his usual table, tucked into the corner where he could watch both exits easily. His heavy black cloak was wrapped around him, despite the warmth of both the day and the room. As Ginny sat down, she said, "You really should stop teasing her; she'll decide you hate her."

Snape just grinned nastily. "Have you received any news from Seeker?"

"Even better," she replied. "Malfoy himself visited yesterday."

Snape snapped to attention, leant forward instinctively. "Malfoy was here?"

"Yes," Ginny replied. "And he seemed to enjoy kissing my hand." She waved her left hand lightly.

Snape's eyes widened. "Stupid girl!" he hissed, smacking her hand down. "Was he aware…"

Ginny frowned. "He seemed curious."

Snape cursed under his breath. "And Seeker's report?"

"An 'account from silence'. Malfoy tried to accuse me, but I think I deflected well enough."

"He was probably too distracted by whatever that ring did to him." Snape muttered vehemently for a few more moments. Ginny changed the subject.

"The steak was to your liking?"

Snape shrugged. "Teasing."

"Snape, you just don't tease about steak."

He raised a black eyebrow. "Bring Granger over here."

Ginny hesitated. "If she hits you, I won't stop her."

Snape smiled nastily. Ginny sighed and called her friend over. Snape looked Hermione over for a long moment and Ginny could feel the heat radiating off her friend's face.

"What?" she snapped.

"Would you like to work for me?" Snape asked plainly. Ginny snorted.

"You trying to steal my staff now?"

"She's your guest, not your staff."

Hermione cleared her throat. "I am standing here, you know. What gives you any indication that I'll even consider your offer, Snape?"

"Because your brain is atrophying in this job? That and my charm," he added. Hermione snorted, but Ginny grinned at his straight-faced humour.

"Well? Are you going to explain to me what you expect me to do? And how much you'll pay me?" Hermione's cheeks were flushed, and her hands were on her hips, unconsciously gathering her dress closer to her frame and making it ride a little higher than her knees. Snape ignored her.

"How much are you paying this girl?" He asked Ginny.

"Room, board, a galleon a day," Ginny replied.

"Generous," Snape replied. "I can afford only a little more than that, minus the room and board. But I do need someone to slice mandrake roots for me."

"I can't help you, I've got a pub to run." Ginny turned to Hermione.

"Mandrake root? Ashwinder eggs? Mermaid scales?" She was working herself up into a fury. "Any other dangerous ingredients you want to farm out?"

Snape raised a hand. Hermione stopped speaking. "I am hoping to win the contract to provide St Mungo's with hospital-grade potions."

Hermione's eyes widened. "That's why the…"

Snape's face turned dark. He turned to Ginny. "Have you informed the whole neighbourhood of your activities?"

Ginny stood her ground. "No. Hermione only. But you'll need all the help they'll give you… Though Hermione can tell you exactly what that article will do, and I don't know if it'll make you lucky enough to get the contract."

Snape sneered. "Luck is all it provides."

"Actually," Hermione interrupted. She wavered as Snape turned to look at her, but she continued in her lecturing tone. "Actually, it's not about luck at all. It's about political power. They'll make you successful… but only in line with your political ambition. Malfoy had them: the wealthy became extremely politically powerful, and Malfoy continued to make money. I don't know if it'll help you get the contract."

Snape stared at her. Ginny grinned. Hermione floundered.

"I suppose I will need all the help I can get then," Snape said eventually.

Hermione looked to Ginny. Ginny returned a raised eyebrow and a shrug. Hermione narrowed her eyes.

"Are you asking me to help you, Snape?"

Snape's face stayed blank. "I suppose I am," he returned.

"Then I want to be an equal partner."

Ginny saw Snape's jaw clench. He kept his face blank apart from that one reflex movement. "One third. You can't buy in, you haven't the capital."

Hermione stood straighter. "One half, and you can subtract one half of _your_ starting proceeds from any dividends we make."

Snape considered her for long minutes. Hermione flushed again, but kept her shoulders set and her back straight. "Equal partner," Snape eventually said. "You'll share in whatever costs we have as well as whatever money we make."

Hermione looked a little shocked, but she took the hand Snape held out and shook it firmly. Ginny thought that Snape kept his face blank to stop from smiling. One third partner was far too high to begin bargaining if he'd ever wanted to keep her at one third. He'd wanted her as equal partner, but had made her fight for it. Merlin, the man was helping Hermione get over the hurts inflicted by her brother more than she herself had.

Snape stood, Hermione backed up to let him past as he nodded goodbye to both women.

"I think he wanted me to hit him, the way he was winding me up," Hermione said to her friend.

"Good work on not, by the way. I would have," Ginny confessed. "Equal partner! Well done!"

Hermione smiled a little. "I've just bought into more hard work than profit. He knew exactly what he wanted, and he got it."

No, Ginny thought, he hasn't got it yet.


	19. Chapter 19

Blaise Zabini was sitting on a stool at the bar, dressed in a dark red suit with a bunch of roses in his hand. Ginny smiled at him from the kitchen doorway. "She's coming, you know what girls are like."

Blaise smiled back, "I know what girls are like. I'm here early, just to get her flustered."

"It'll put some life in her cheeks. Shall I go and check on her?"

"No, come and chat with me. She'll be fine." He patted the seat next to him. Ginny smiled and walked over, but kept the bar between them. He made a mock-pout then resumed his smile.

"Business is going well?" he asked conversationally, rubbing his earlobe – complete with the gold-covered earring Hermione had delivered.

Ginny smiled wryly. Slytherin – so many undercurrents to such a simple question. "Oh, yes. Food just keeps getting better – autumn foods are not only pouring in, they're cheaper than spring foods as well. And the ale, mead and stout keep getting better as well. And with those things, people keep choosing the Leaky Cauldron over some more expensive locations. We're doing very well."

"And you're living on the premises?"

"Of course; I don't think even I could afford a loan from Gringotts' at the moment. What's their going rate of interest? Nineteen percent? Blah. Stupid."

Blaise gave her a crooked grin. "I suppose. Loaning money is risky business, these days."

Ginny snorted. Blaise shrugged. Ginny opened her mouth, but Blaise' gaze had moved behind her. He stood, offered the flowers he was carrying, his smile growing ever-more radiant.

Hermione was gorgeous. Ginny supposed she could have seen that if she'd looked; but, like most people, she had been too distracted by her irrepressible hair (well, not entirely – her hair was in defined ringlets tonight), and her regular but never-painted features. Hidden under her friend's usual jeans-and-jumper was a promising figure, now adorned with the beautiful dress Ginny had bought for her – much to her friend's dismay. Burgundy was a gorgeous colour that suited Hermione well (though Ginny would never wear it herself – she would clash horribly), and the cut was modest enough that she had known Hermione would actually wear it.

"Mademoiselle," Blaise began, but Hermione interrupted him.

"Blaise, I just want to have a good time tonight." She fixed him with such a look that Ginny had to stifle a giggle. She accepted the flowers and smiled at them, thanked Blaise then handed them over to Ginny to put in a vase.

"You will have a wonderful time tonight, Hermione," Blaise finally replied, returning the serious look. "I firmly intend on becoming better acquainted with you, and hopefully becoming friends with you. But do let me flirt a little; I like the way it makes you smile and blush," he added with a grin, then offered his arm. "Shall we?"

Hermione nodded, smiled and took his arm. The look she flashed over Blaise' arm as he led her out said, _don't wait up_.

Ginny just waved.


	20. Chapter 20

Ginny didn't wait up; when she closed the bar at twelve thirty her friend had not yet returned, but she proceeded to clean without any worry. When she collapsed into her bed at one thirty she began to wonder a little, but exhaustion carried her into sleep before she could become anxious.

On rising in the morning Ginny noted her friend's closed door and wondered what she had been doing the night before. She shook her head and smiled. Maude was already in the kitchen when Ginny wandered in, checking on the bread.

"Any thoughts on who you're going to hire to help me? I've got a whole lot of preserving to do before winter and I could use that help soon."

"Good morning, Maude," Ginny replied with a smile. Maude handed her a cup of tea. "I was thinking of talking to my mum, actually," she confessed. "She's been doing kitchen work most of her life, and for seven hungry children to boot. I think you'd like her."

"Well," Maude exhaled sharply as she placed a heavy tray of bread on the counter, "hurry up and get her in here, then. I want to meet her."

Ginny nodded, carefully sipped her tea and slipped into the morning routine.

A Floo call to her mother – to ask her over for afternoon tea – arranged a meeting. Ginny spared a passing anxious thought to how she was going to convince her mother to work at the pub. She really didn't have a lot of time to worry, however, as the bar filled up and she set herself to waitress duties.

Sometime after lunch Hermione wandered down the stairs, squinting and grumbling.

"Too much to drink last night?" Ginny asked loudly. Hermione winced.

"Is that supposed to be funny?" the brunette grumbled, crawling onto a chair and summoning a glass of water over. She sculled it, refilled the glass and stared at it.

"Did you have a good night, then?" Ginny prodded, coming over to sit opposite her friend.

Hermione smiled a little, secretive smile. She raised an eyebrow. "Wouldn't you like to know?"

Ginny gave a wry smile. "Oh, I suppose. If you want to tell me, that is."

Hermione gave a half-hearted laugh, wincing at her sore ears. "No, no, this is the part where you beg me, where you offer me anything to make me tell you."

Ginny made a haughty face. "I could, but it would be just as effective as waiting you out."

Hermione grimaced. "Oh, I suppose it would, at that." She picked up her glass and drank. When she put it down, she continued to stare at it.

Ginny waited for a few moments. Then a few more. "Oh, fine," she exclaimed. "Tell me!"

Hermione jerked up. "Oh! Right. Well, we went out to Gregoriov's for dinner," Ginny let out a low whistle. Hermione nodded, then continued. "He ordered everything, complimented me on everything, flirted outrageously…" she laughed wistfully. "If he wasn't Blaise, I'd have fallen head over heels. But, as it was, it was just wonderful fun. We went out for drinks afterwards, ended up in some bar or other… He bought cocktails for me, and just watched me drink them. I thought it slightly suspicious, but he apparated me back here at about three in the morning without laying a hand on me… well, you know, apart from the side-along bit." Hermione trailed off, her eyes gazing into the middle distance, a faint smile on her lips.

Ginny kept her face straight. "You told him where to find Snape?"

"Oh?" Hermione snapped back. "Oh. No, not yet. I didn't… I didn't actually get around to asking Snape if he'd mind if I told Blaise…"

Ginny nodded once, decisively. "Good. Blaise is a nice enough guy, but he is still a Slytherin." After a moment's pause, Ginny reached over and squeezed her friend's arm. "I'm glad you had a good time, Hermione. You needed it."

Hermione smiled up at Ginny as the redhead got up to go back to work.

The rest of the morning was calm, and Ginny inwardly prepared for her meeting with her mother that afternoon. When Molly bustled into the kitchen at three o'clock, Ginny was sitting with Maude, peeling potatoes for dinner.

"Hi, mum, how are you?" Ginny got up and ushered her mother to a seat, then poured her a cup of tea.

"Quite fine, Gin, darling. Now, while you're not busy, tell me what it is you wanted to ask me?" Molly's look told her daughter that she was not fooled by the five seconds of bluster that Ginny made before sighing.

"I was going to ask you if you'd like to work here," Ginny replied bluntly. If her mother wanted to play this game, then fine.

"Well, Ginny, I do have a garden to tend, and your father to look after…" But Ginny wasn't put off by her mother's words, as the tone was musing. "What sort of salary are you going to pay me?"

Ginny grinned inwardly, careful not to let it show on the outside. "Two Galleons an hour, Three an hour on public holidays and if we call you in, in the morning. You'd be working from twelve thirty til about eight, and you're free to take dinner home for dad as well."

Molly eyed Maude as she considered the offer. "The pay is fine. But it would be more helpful for me to work from about eleven until seven. That will cover dinner, supper preparations, and early suppers as well. And meals will be free, I assume?"

"Of course," Ginny replied. "Maude, what do you think?"

Maude, who had been watching the exchange silently, her hands working away at the beans, replied. "How do you go with preserving? Jams, chutneys, relishes? Bottled fruit?" Molly nodded at each question.

"I've raised seven children on one Ministry salary," she replied, as though this answered all questions. Maude nodded as though it did.

"I would be privileged to work with you," Maude inclined her head.

"Well, mum?" Ginny prompted.

Molly looked over at her daughter. "Darling, did you know that I've not had a job since before Bill was born? And that was only for the year before your father and I got married. It will be an adventure to work again."

Ginny smiled, outwardly now. "You'll do fine." She held out her hand. "An honour to have you on board," she said as her mother shook her hand firmly.

Molly signed a contract confirming her employment details, and took her copy with her as she – flushed with strange pride – waved at her daughter and left through the floo.

"I like her," Maude said as Ginny took up her paring knife again.

"Me, too," Ginny replied, smiling.


	21. Chapter 21

Draco Malfoy was sitting at the bar of the Leaky Cauldron. It was lunch time, the place was crowded, and he was sipping white wine waiting for a table. The girl behind the bar served him, but otherwise ignored him. Somehow, after his visit the other week, the staff had picked up on the vibe that Malfoy – although feared outside the establishment – had no power here. Hermione, however, had taken one glance through the doorway and retreated into the kitchen.

Ginny, who had been doing inventory throughout the morning, wandered into the kitchen as well. "Hermione, aren't you supposed to be waitressing?" She kept her voice light, seeing a nervousness in her friend's face that she hadn't seen for many long months.

"Malfoy's out there," Hermione replied shortly. Ginny wondered where the fight in her friend had gone, remembering years ago when Hermione had slapped the blond boy hard enough to leave a mark that lasted the whole day. Today, she was too terrified to even stand in his presence.

"Well, why don't you go and talk to Snape today then? Surely he's got some work for you to do by now?" Ginny tied on her apron.

Hermione shrugged, but contemplated the idea. "I suppose. I'll go out through the back." Having decided, the witch jumped up immediately. "See you tonight, hopefully I'll be back before supper." Ginny waved her friend off, clenching her teeth as she prepared to face Malfoy. Hermione may allow herself to be intimidated now, but Ginny refused to be cowed.

Maude raised an eyebrow at the girl. Ginny rolled her eyes. "Maybe he wants to buy us out, now that we're turning a profit," she offered up to the older witch. Maude snorted.

"That'd be right, wouldn't it? You go out there and tell him to back off, girl. We don't want his dirty money." Maude fired her employer a fierce gaze, then turned back to the meals she was turning out. The waitress at the window nodded her silent agreement with a grim smile, taking plates out to customers.

Ginny sighed quietly. Picking up some plates, she took them out to their tables, smiled politely at the customers, talked about the establishment for a few moments, then moved over to the bar. The girl behind the bar indicated to her that Malfoy had drunk two glasses of their best white, and had paid for the rest of the bottle. Finally, a table cleared for Malfoy, so Ginny steeled herself to go and talk to him.

"Mr. Malfoy," she greeted him.

"Miss Weasley," he replied. "I see you are taking a personal hand to your establishment?" His raised eyebrow indicated her apron and the bottle Malfoy had paid for.

She smiled politely, knowing she could not shout like a schoolgirl at him in front of her employees. "Certainly, Mr. Malfoy," she replied. "It builds the morale of the workers, knowing that I will not expect of them anything that I will not do myself. If you will follow me? There is a table available over here." Clutching the cold bottle so tightly she feared it might break, she led the smirking man over to a small table set against the window which faced the Muggle side of the establishment. On taking over the management of the pub, Ginny had quickly shed the interior of the pub of its gloomy cast by opening up these huge windows, allowing the fierce late-summer sun to shine on Malfoy's too-pale skin.

Ginny placed the bottle on the table, indicating that Malfoy should sit. "Will you have the house fare?" She asked calmly, and he indicated that, yes, that would be fine. Then he sipped his wine, turned his head away, and she knew she was dismissed. Her insides gripped with fury, she walked away lightly.

On returning to the kitchen, she kissed her newly-arrived mother on the cheek, then said to Maude, "spit in the next one," with such a vicious tone that Maude and Molly both turned to look at her.

With a deep breath, Ginny calmed herself. "Malfoy is out there, and he insinuated that I was no better than the help I've hired, waltzing around as a waitress."

Maude shrugged. "The establishment is only as good as the help you've got, dear. If you spent all your time being haughty like that Malfoy kid, there's no way we'd work as hard as we do for you." Ginny smiled and accepted the reassurance of the older woman.

"And anyway," Molly added, "I've heard through the grapevine that Malfoy's investments haven't been going as well as normal, lately. Perhaps he's here to ask for a job?" The suggestion was accompanied by a mischievous grin.

Ginny grinned back at her mother. "That bad?"

A dark-haired waitress nodded from the window. "I've heard that he's lost half his fortune in the past six months, and that his normal determination has turned into distraction…"

Ginny looked thoughtful. Perhaps taking those pearls from Malfoy would finally bring him some humility. She shrugged. "He'll never know what it's like to live under the breadline, even if he loses ninety percent of his fortune. I'll take his dinner over to him, if it's ready Maude?"

Maude looked for a moment as though she might take Ginny's previous suggestion seriously, but Molly put a hand on her shoulder. "Better," the woman said, producing a small packet of some powder and sprinkling the tiniest amount on the food. Ginny gasped at her mother. "Mum, that's…"

Molly winked at her daughter. "Your brother's Inner Turmoil powder, yes."

Ginny grinned, took the plate over to Malfoy and placed it in front of him silently. He gave her no indication that he even saw her, so she went to clear another table.

Ginny gave her mum a wink when she re-entered the kitchen. She didn't see him leave, but when she next looked out Malfoy was gone.

The afternoon wore on, the women filling in the quiet time between main meals with preparation and preserving the seasonal produce that Ginny had sourced at a fantastic price. Ginny was peeling potatoes – again – when Hermione returned to the kitchen. Her face was flushed, her jaw set, but there was a sparkle in her eye that Ginny couldn't have missed if she'd been blind.

"Have fun boiling Ashwinder eggs?" Ginny asked, barely glancing up from her potato.

Hermione grunted, sitting down next to her friend and beginning to slice tomatoes. "You enjoy my torment, don't you?" She grumbled. Ginny hid her smile. "No, I wasn't boiling Ashwinder eggs, I was cleaning out my newly-bought apartment. Apparently, the use of my property is included in this arrangement. His house is 'too small'." Hermione snorted.

"Too small for the both of you!" Ginny replied. "It sounds like you can hardly stand to be in the same room."

Hermione cast an almost unnoticed glance at her friend from the corner of her eye. She shrugged with one shoulder and brushed her hair away from her face with the back of one wrist. "I suppose I'll survive," she said eventually. Ginny said nothing.

"Have you heard from Blaise?" Ginny asked after a few minutes, dropping slices of potato into a baking dish.

Hermione shrugged. "No, but I didn't really expect to. Snape contacted him, so they're doing… whatever Blaise wanted him for. He'll wander off to whomever is next on his list," Hermione gave Ginny a wistful half-smile. "I'm not bothered by it, actually."

Ginny had other thoughts as to why Blaise hadn't pursued Hermione harder – thoughts to do with Snape and torture – but she didn't mention them.

"I take it that Malfoy didn't destroy the place?" Hermione asked.

Ginny shook her head, her face serious now. "No. I don't know why he was here, and I hope he doesn't come back. He drank a bottle of wine, ate a meal and left. Good riddance."

Hermione lifted up the cup of tea that Maude had put in front of her and toasted Ginny. "Good riddance," she replied.


	22. Chapter 22

Malfoy was there again the next day, and for every day following for the next month. Ginny avoided him, and he didn't say anything to the other waitresses. He ate, paid and left. If he had been anyone but Draco Malfoy, he wouldn't have been conspicuous.

The women continued to spike his food with Inner Turmoil powder. It didn't drive him away, but gave them some revenge over his continued presence nonetheless.

Hermione was in the cloak room putting on an overcoat as the first heavy rains of autumn were now upon them. She grumbled into the coat, Ginny helping to straighten her out.

"Bloody Snape, expecting me to work on a day like this." Ginny shrugged at her friend, knowing that her day would include running from apothecary to apothecary, then Snape would expect her to do some gardening, despite the downpour that was occurring. He would work beside her, but it still made the brunette angry.

"Bring him round for supper tonight," Ginny told her friend.

"You'll tell him off?" Hermione asked, knowing better. Ginny rolled her eyes at her friend, smiled at her smile.

"No, but I'd like to talk to him about our Malfoy problem."

Hermione frowned nervously. "Ok. He gives me the creeps, and I'm not sure why."

Ginny huffed impatiently. "He's a nasty piece of work, but he's just a person."

"Well, you're the one who broke in…" Ginny clapped a hand over her friend's mouth.

"Don't talk about that!" She hissed, letting go of Hermione after a second.

"Sorry. Brain's deserted me, these days." The sheepish look on her face told Ginny that she knew this wasn't good enough. Ginny rolled her eyes again.

"Get to work, girl. Tell Snape not to keep you out and wet all afternoon, or he'll answer to me."

Hermione raised an eyebrow, but gave her friend a fleeting smile as she left through the Wizarding exit of the building. Ginny went back to the kitchen, but not for long. She was going out to source a winter vegetable crop, and possibly another supplier for spring. Into her pocket she tucked a few gold-covered pearls. Today she would see Luna, Susan Bones and Justin Finch-Fletchly. She left the Wizarding way as well, though mostly to avoid being seen by Malfoy. She had avoided further contact with him since the first day he had appeared at the establishment to eat, and hoped that whatever effect the enchanted ring on her left hand was having on him, it would be lessened by lack of sight.

Ginny's long overcoat was black and charmed to keep the worst of the cold and wet out. She pulled the hood over her bright hair, braced herself to face the cold rain, and stepped into the back courtyard. She turned impatiently on one heel and apparated.

The alley she emerged from half a second later was muddy, but she ignored it. There was a bustle of people – Muggles – in the wide open space before her, numerous despite the dreary weather. There were men in heavy coats clucking around their produce, proudly showing off their late-season pumpkins, cabbages, carrots and tomatoes. Ginny smiled as she walked over to begin inspecting.

She visited three different markets that morning, chatting with different farmers and sounding out a good price for vegetables for the winter months. Eventually she settled on three separate farms, each producing slightly different crops and together providing enough supply for her increased clientele. A profitable morning. She bought some early parsnips to bring home.

Ginny returned to the Leaky Cauldron just before noon, entrusted the parsnips to Maude, ate quickly and left again. She had more visits to make.

Susan Bones was a quiet woman now, and a secretary for a large investment company. She turned the single golden sphere around in her hands, trailing the golden chain through her fingers. Ginny explained the little she safely could, and Susan reassured her that she would wear it.

Justin Finch-Fletchly took the golden bauble, raised an eyebrow, but wore it anyway. He looked at the house he was auditing. "Real estate isn't a great money-winner," he confided in Ginny. "But I'm paying off my own house now. Things seem to be stabilising." Ginny suspected her smile might have been bigger than the sentence warranted, but she took it as a sign that the pearls were spreading their influence.

Luna – tucked away in a tiny cottage in the far reaches of northern Scotland – ushered Ginny inside quickly. Ginny was glad, for the cold rain of southern England was freezing her coat stiff even in the Scottish sunshine. Luna waved her to a chair then proceeded to inform her of all the Snorkacks she had seen recently, as well as the rare Orange pixies she had spotted romping through her pumpkin patch the other day.

Eventually, Ginny shoved a sentence into the monologue. "Luna, I was wondering if you'd like to wear this necklace I've brought for you." The vacant blue-eyed eyes focussed sharply on the golden ball and chain.

"No," she said sharply. "Take that thing away from here. It will disrupt the ley lines here." Her eyes pierced Ginny. Ginny wondered how she could have considered this woman more than slightly insane five minutes ago. But then the lucidity faded from the blonde's expression. "And the Wimples will never leave me alone until they've stolen it: they are as bad as ravens for collecting things, you know…"

Ginny waited for the woman to wear herself out, then left politely, taking the jewellery with her.


	23. Chapter 23

She had barely taken her coat off, back at the Leaky Cauldron, before Maude grabbed her and dragged her into the kitchen.

"Malfoy's been asking after you," she muttered. "Sorry to throw you to the wolf, but the sooner he's out of here, the sooner we can go back to normal." And she shoved the redhead through the kitchen and into the dining room. Ginny grumbled under her breath at being manhandled, gave a half-hearted glare at Maude, and straightened herself out. With a high head, she turned to look for Malfoy.

He was slouched at the bar, swirling a glass of white wine. Ginny frowned. He didn't look very good. She tried to muster up some ill-will toward him, but he looked so sick she found it hard to do. With a huff she walked over.

"Mr. Malfoy," she greeted him. He looked even worse up close. He had dark marks under his eyes, and his skin was a sickly yellow colour. He had wrinkles around his eyes and mouth. He gave her a wry half-smile as he returned her greeting.

"Ms. Weasley. I was wondering if I might have a private word with you." He stood, but held onto the bar for a moment to gain his balance. With a frown, Ginny nodded. She turned to lead the way to one of the meeting rooms in the back. She walked slowly, but even before the hallway he was falling behind. Ginny waited for him at the hallway entrance and took his protesting elbow to guide him. He mustered up a glare, but it was as weak as the rest of him.

Once in a room, she sat him in an armchair and settled herself opposite him.

"Go ahead," she said.

Malfoy gave her another half-smile. "I realise that I've given you no reason to like me." Ginny snorted. He continued after raising an eyebrow at her. "But I am here to ask you for your services.

"I am not well. I think perhaps you have noticed. This is a result of a charm which is interwoven into the Malfoy bloodline. Several generations back, my ancestors were worried at the number of squibs being born into other Wizarding families. So they sought out some way to be certain that all their offspring would be magical. They created – or found, the history is not very precise – a pair of rings which would do just this." Ginny could feel her stomach sinking as she made a guess at where this story was going. Malfoy didn't notice. "I was three, when my parents told me of these rings." He gave her a small sad smile, telling her to bear with him. "Pansy and I had been playing in the garden, pretending to get married. Her parents thought it was cute. My parents took me aside and yelled at me – once the Parkinsons were gone. Being a Malfoy, they told me, brings with it certain responsibilities.

"A Malfoy must be celibate until his wedding day, my father told me. When I had decided whom I wished to be tied to for the rest of my life, then I could marry her: until that time, I was to behave myself. The fidelity charms woven into this pair of rings was so solidly tied into our blood that most Mafoys never actually wore them, yet the magic applied anyway. There were to be no mistresses, no experimentation. To keep our line pure, we were to be faithful."

Malfoy paused, turned to gaze at the painting on the wall. "I am sorry. This is a long tale. Many months back, the Malfoy Estate was broken into. The only items taken were these rings. Then you broke in and stole the Paradise Pearls. No, no, don't look at me like that. I don't care about them. They brought me power, but there is always a price to be paid for the power they bring." He raised a hand. It shook alarmingly. "I am paying my price, it seems. Such is the power of these rings, that when they are worn and the marriage is not consummated, there is a price to pay. When wearing the rings this price is minimal: a slight lessening of strength, and less magical power. But when one does not wear the ring… The price is higher." Malfoy slumped back into his chair.

"I know you stole the Pearls. I don't care. But, please, find who stole these rings. If I continue without this ring, I will die. I would prefer not to die so soon. And," he added with a small smile, "I would appreciate knowing to whom I am now 'married'."

Ginny frowned at him, trying to make some sense in her head of what Malfoy knew and what he did not. "How did you know I stole the Pearls?" she asked, more for a delaying tactic than for any other reason.

Malfoy waved a hand. "Seeker tracked the traces to here. You were evasive, and Seeker suspected you. That was enough for me. And your quick elevation to manager… well, that confirmed it. You have done well with the place," he added.

Ginny nodded her head at the compliment. "I will do what I can for you," she finally decided.

"I will pay you whatever…"

"I don't want your money," Ginny cut in over him, angrily. "I'll help you, but I don't want your money. Why did you wait so long to speak to me?"

Malfoy – looking baffled – replied, "I was going to speak to you once I had finished my first meal here. But while I was eating all I could think of was how unlikely you were to even hear me out…"

Ginny grunted at herself. Malfoy looked at her. She shook her head. "I am a decent human being, of course I would hear you out." Inwardly, she berated herself for allowing her mother to spike his food with the Inner Turmoil powder. She ran a hand over her face as she felt the grief again of losing her brothers…

"In the meantime," Ginny said, standing, "I have a request to make of you." Malfoy stood also, and she moved to take his elbow so that he didn't fall. He nodded at her wearily.

"Snape is here. Will you let him make you something to make you stronger? Tracking down these rings may take some time." Malfoy nodded, his head lowered. After a long moment, he met her eyes. He had tears in his eyes.

"Thankyou," he said in a voice that was as broken as his pride.


	24. Chapter 24

Snape and Hermione were about equally shocked to see Malfoy entering the room on Ginny's arm. Snape mastered himself quicker, however. Snapping his jaw shut, he ushered the man into a chair and took a few vital signs. When asked what was wrong with him, he waved a hand at Ginny. With a grimace, she said, "Some rings were stolen from him. Some silly woman has put one on. Until he puts the other one on, he will continue to get weaker, and eventually die."

Hermione frowned, thinking; Snape met Ginny's eyes quickly, before turning back to Malfoy. Snape stood. "Hermione, go and find some mugwort, and some fennel. And some black beetle wings, if you can. I'll be in the kitchen." Hermione nodded and bustled out quickly. Snape took Malfoy's temperature. He frowned slightly, and Ginny was glad that Malfoy had his eyes closed: that frown didn't speak well. Snape looked over his shoulder at her and indicated that he wanted to speak to her outside the room.

"Wait here, Draco. The liquor should be ready in about half an hour, if Hermione is quick." Malfoy nodded, waved a shaking hand at him, and the two of them left the room. Snape cast a muffling spell on them.

"Your stupidity is killing him."

"I know that," Ginny replied, perhaps more viciously than she needed to.

"He doesn't have long. He has deteriorated quickly."

"That's probably to do with me as well: the ladies in the kitchen have been spiking his food with Inner Turmoil powder… left over from the Twin's shop. We have a huge stockpile of all sorts of…"

"You've been feeding him a highly experimental additive? One that weakens the mind?" Snape was furious.

"Every day for about a month. Gods, but we didn't know…"

"For a _month_?" Snape's cheeks had become flushed with his anger. It was a terrifying sight.

Ginny turned away, rubbing her hand over her face. "I'll be as quick as I can with retrieving the other ring."

"Will you tell him that you're the person wearing the female one?" Snape's voice had become quiet, but still dreadfully angry.

Ginny turned to look at him. She held his eyes for a long moment. Then she looked away. "Not if I don't have to."

"Just how deep is the enchantment on these rings?" Snape asked, almost whispering. Ginny wished he would yell again.

"Blood deep," she replied. "And incredibly strong. I can never marry anyone else. Nor even… be intimate. Nor can he. But… Merlin, I don't even know the man. I used to hate him. I am not sure I don't still." She set her jaw and met Snape's black eyes. He glared at her, then turned his head slightly, frowning and thinking.

"Fealty rings, they must be. But modified. There is no way to undo the charm." He met her eyes again. "You had better decide if you can stand the man, Weasley. Because, whatever he's told you, if you are not _completely_ loyal to him – in mind, as well as in body – both of you will waste away."

Ginny lowered her head. "Great," she mumbled. "Just bloody great."

Snape raised an eyebrow at her. She huffed. "I know. My stupid mistake, now I have to live with it. Or die with it, however it works out. Can you keep him alive?"

Snape shrugged with one shoulder, looked away. "Perhaps. He's not well at all. I will speak with him about staying here. If he goes back to the Estate, I will not be able to enter: the pureblood protection," he clarified. "And you need to interact with him. If you are nearby, he will last longer, ring or no ring.

"Stupid girl," he added.

Ginny lowered her head. "Stupid girl," she agreed. Snape ended the muffling spell.

"Get going, girl," he said, not unkindly. With a half-hearted smile, she turned away.


	25. Chapter 25

The man didn't look surprised to see her. She smiled at him, and he looked puzzled when she didn't produce something to sell. His shirt was heavy cotton today, a dark grey jacket over the top. Probably fine wool, from what she could tell, although to someone with a less trained eye it would pass for polyester.

"I'm buying today," she said, resting her hands on the counter.

"Oh?" the man said, "what did you have in mind?"

"Something pricey… although, if you don't have it, then information."

He cocked his head interestedly. He waited for her to continue.

"I brought a ring to you, a few months back. I'd like to get it back." She spread her hands apologetically. His eyes flickered alight with curiosity, then shook his head sadly.

"I'm sorry; that piece was very fine, and I sold it very soon after you brought it in."

"Is there any way for me to find out where it went?"

The man shrugged. "Not officially. I have several other nice pieces though… Ah, but you do not want other pieces. There was something special about that one ring?" He raised an eyebrow knowledgeably. Again, Ginny wondered if he was a wizard. She nodded.

"Then, off the books, for you are a very good customer of mine," he grinned, "I will let you know." He stepped away from the counter. "Mind the shop?" She nodded.

He went into a back room, closed the door. She heard him shuffling through a filing cabinet. After a long moment he came out holding a piece of paper. It was a receipt of sale.

"Look at it. Then I will put it back."

She did. A solid stone of dread settled in her stomach. The paper read, Pansy Parkinson, The Cottage, Wytham. The man took the paper back, and went to file it again. He came back out looking serious.

"Take care with that item," he said. "And do not take it by force. Such things must be given, not taken. Or they tend to take back." And he glanced at her left hand, then met her eyes again and turned away to sort some goods. Ginny's heart was pounding a million miles an hour, but she turned and walked calmly from the shop.

When she returned to the kitchen at the Leaky Cauldron, she was in a sort of daze. Molly and Maude were clucking around Snape, who had commandeered a corner of the kitchen, much to their disgust.

"Ginny, dear, tell this man to get out of my kitchen," Maude demanded. Molly turned to her daughter, and both women now wore identical expressions of frustration, and both had their hands on their hips. Ginny just walked past them, went over to Snape. He was finished with the potion, putting it into bottles. He put the last bottle down just as she reached him. He spoke without looking up, turning his attention to the dirty cauldron.

"He will stay here. I will take one of your rooms too, though I will not pay for it." He raised his eyes to challenger her, but turned from what he was doing when he saw that Ginny's eyes were glazed. He caught her forearms in his hands, shook her slightly. "Girl, what did you find out?"

She looked up. "I am doubly damned," she replied. "The rings… don't like being taken by force. Or stealth. And the Pearls… extract a price for their power. I… don't know if I am strong enough to pay both prices." She tried to turn away, but Snape held her where she was.

"Take this bottle up to Draco. Stir one drop into half a glass of water and make him drink the whole thing. Then do the same for yourself. And go and get some sleep. You won't fix this by collapsing in the kitchen." Ginny was surprised at his sentiment, but she couldn't comment – it was all she could do to nod, collect the bottle and climb some stairs. She left Molly and Maude clucking behind her.

Malfoy was in a first-floor room, like herself. She didn't quite know how she knew which room was his, but in her daze the first door that she opened was his. He was sitting in the armchair beside the window which looked out over the Muggle street. Ginny wandered in, trying to get a hold on herself.

"Snape sent me up with this," she announced. Malfoy nodded, not turning away from the window. Ginny sat on the bed, poured half a glass of water from the pitcher on the side table, and let a single drop of the vile-looking black concoction fall into it. She swirled it thoroughly, and handed it over. "Drink it all," she instructed. Again, Malfoy nodded, though he made no move to take the glass. Ginny repeated the process for herself, then drank the mixture down as quickly as she could.

"There are so many things I wanted to do," Malfoy said, still staring out the window.

"That's nice, Malfoy," Ginny replied. Her whole body tingled – from the tips of her toes up to the crown of her head.

"I wanted to see the beaches in Greece," he said. "I wanted to sample wines from every region in France. I wanted to be put in Witches Weekly as most handsome wizard. I wanted to find Harry Potter and shake some sense into him, make him tell them all what really happened out there… back then. I wanted to apologise to Severus…" He trailed off.

"You're rambling," Ginny said firmly. "Drink the potion Snape's made for you, and be thankful that you may have a chance to do all those things." She put the glass into his hand. He took it, looked up at her.

"Alright," he said, with no good grace. He swallowed it down, grimacing. "Severus always makes the worst-tasting potions, though. He always did. Mother used to say that he did it on purpose, so that I didn't enjoy being sick. Father would say that Severus just didn't want anyone else to be happier than him." He looked up at Ginny again. "They were both probably right."

"Wonderful," Ginny replied. "Now get some sleep." She stood and left the room, pausing at the doorway to look back at him. The potion was working, and Malfoy waved her away. Ginny shook her head and moved to take her own advice.


	26. Chapter 26

The sun was on her face. Ginny grumbled, rolled over. A strange feeling washed over her – she was being watched. She lifted her head and looked over her shoulder. Snape was sitting on her armchair, and he'd opened the curtains. It must be seven in the morning. She groaned.

"What do you want," she demanded.

Snape glanced out the window. "Who has the ring?" He asked.

"Do you always interrupt people's sleep to ask questions?" She grumbled, sitting up in bed. Snape sneered at her.

"Just answer the question."

"Pansy Parkinson."

Snape grimaced, returned his gaze to the window. "And you can't take it, you have to get her to give it to you," he stated. Ginny nodded unnecessarily. Snape stood. "Get up," he said, "Hermione's having a nervous breakdown in her room. Merlin knows I won't help her."

And he left. Ginny groaned. "Why me?" She moaned into her pillow. She punched the bed a couple of times, but it didn't help her feelings of helplessness much. So she got up, dressed and wandered into Hermione's room. How did her establishment end up as one big house full of people who didn't pay? She wondered. She knocked on the door, didn't wait for an answer, entered.

Hermione was hyperventilating on her bed, curled up in foetal position beside her pillow. Ginny opened the curtains, then the window. She leaned over and slapped Hermione on the face.

"Ow!" Hermione exclaimed, looking injured. "What was that for?"

"For you to snap out of whatever that was. Now tell me what's going on. Snape just wandered into my room to tell me that you're having a nervous breakdown. And while I appreciate the concern, I really don't appreciate being woken before I have to get up. So start talking," she said, flopping down into the armchair.

Hermione shivered. "I don't know what's going on," she mumbled. "I'm still married…"

Ginny, noticing that Hermione was wearing her wedding ring again, groaned and buried her face in her hands. "Hermione, seriously, just tell me what's going on."

"I… I… Ginny, I kissed Severus."

"Yes, and… ?"

"Did you hear me? I kissed him! I'm married to your brother, and I… Oh, Gods, what do I do?" Hermione buried her head in her hands and sobbed.

Ginny sighed. She got up, sat on the bed next to her friend, put her arm around her. "Are you really still married to Ron?"

"Well… I mean, we aren't divorced or anything…" She mumbled between sobs.

"Hermione, there's a reason the magical world do marriage magically. Hold up your wedding ring."

Hermione held out her left hand, and Ginny took off the ring. The gold crumbled to dust, and Ginny blew it away. Hermione stared.

"Hermione, the magic's not out to get you. It's not legalistic, like muggle laws. It goes where it wills, and it doesn't like being forced. How did you feel when you married Ron?"

"I loved him, of course."

"That's not what I meant. How did the magic feel?"

Hermione cocked her head. Her crying subsided. "I… I don't know. I wasn't really paying attention. My mum was crying, Molly was crying, I wasn't crying but when I walked down the isle… My head was too full of my own voice to hear anything else. I guess the magic was there…"

Ginny nodded. "And then you went muggle, and didn't listen to it again. And your marriage suffered. Do you remember the handfasting vows?"

Hermione shook her head. "I wanted a muggle wedding. We had the Christian vows."

"Well, there you go. The handfasting calls the magic itself to guide your marriage, to steady your feet on the path. Do you feel married to him?"

Hermione sat, staring at her friend. Slowly, she shook her head. "No," she said. "Somehow, I don't. It's like… It's like that part of my life has melted away. The whisper of the magic in my blood… well, I was listening to it earlier, so I guess you know what it says."

Ginny reached out to take her friend's hand. "Yes, I know what it says. You'll be fine, Hermione. If you're worried about Ron, come home with me for lunch sometime. Or talk to mum."

Hermione nodded. Then she turned to Ginny. "I'm so sorry I'm complaining to you. I mean, you have no choice…"

Ginny shook her head. "There's always a choice. I could choose to let him die; then I'd be free. But I won't," she added to her friend's horrified look. "And the magic is just readjusting. The Paradise Pearls force the magic – they influence the power and influence of the owner. So they were hitting back at Malfoy. And I took the rings without permission, so they were hitting back at me. Though," she added, looking down at the plain copper band on her finger, "I don't know where all this will end."

Hermione squeezed Ginny's hand. "Suppose we'd better get up? Start doing some work?"

Ginny sighed. "I suppose I'll have to go and meet with Pansy."

"Pansy?" Hermione asked.

"She's got the other ring." Hermione grimaced.

"And you have to get her to give it to you?"

"Yep."

"Good luck."

"And good luck to you!" Ginny retorted. "I'm giving you the task of getting all the Paradise Pearls back."

"What? When did you decide that?"

"Just now," she said with a grin. "We can't have other people suffering from the backlash of the magic."

Hermione grumbled. "I suppose. What do we do with them once we've got them all?"

Ginny shrugged. "That's for you and Snape to work out."

Hermione scowled. "Fine." Then she smiled at her friend. "Now get out of my room."

Ginny jumped up, then steadied herself with a hand on the back of the armchair as she had a long moment of vertigo. Hermione looked at her worriedly. "I'm fine," Ginny said, smiled, then left.

She made sure she took her potion that morning.


	27. Chapter 27

Pansy looked great. Ginny was sitting opposite her in a sunny room in the dark-haired woman's huge house. Ginny felt somewhat self-conscious: Pansy was wearing a sleek black skirt and a gorgeous cream coloured blouse. Ginny was sitting in black pants and a green shirt. The difference in quality of materials and craftsmanship was obvious. At this distance, Ginny couldn't even see the stitches of the other woman's garments.

"Well," Pansy smiled, showing beautiful even white teeth. Charmed that way, Ginny thought to herself. "What brings you here today, Ms Weasley?"

Ginny smiled back. Be polite, she told herself. "I have been tracking down a certain item for an... acquaintance of mine. I was…"

Pansy cut her off with a curt movement of her hand. "I was wondering when someone would come." Ginny sat back, astonished. Pansy continued. "Draco sent you. I wonder why… But it doesn't matter. If he wants to regain his health, he can come here and marry me." Then the woman sat back, her long dark hair sliding over her shoulders.

Ginny struggled to overcome her amazement. "I am afraid that the female ring is also missing…"

Pansy eyed the redhead. "Well, find it then. He's not getting the one in my possession until I have the female one on my finger." The tone of certainty in the woman's voice made Ginny's shoulders slump.

"I can't do that," she said softly. Pansy looked at her curiously. Ginny raised her left hand for the other woman to see. Pansy frowned, looked about to speak, then grabbed Ginny's hand with alarming speed. Staring down at the seemingly-copper band, she ran her fingers over it. She grabbed the ring and gave it a huge tug.

"Ow!" Ginny exclaimed, pulling her hand back. The ring had not moved in the slightest, but Ginny's finger had nearly given way.

"Chop the finger off," Pansy commanded, looking as though she fully expected Ginny to do so.

"Even if that would work, I wouldn't do it," she replied, cradling her injured hand in her lap. Pansy looked as though she might do the job for her, then, just as suddenly, collapsed in on herself and began to cry. Her tears were not polite, manufactured tears to get what she wanted; they were deep, choking sobs that stole the woman's breath.

Ginny sat silently, embarrassed, and drank her cup of tea. After a couple of minutes, Pansy seemed to regain her composure. Ginny drained her cup and put it down. Pansy wiped her face carefully, not looking at the redhead.

"Does Draco know?" The brunette asked quietly. All the fierceness and strength seemed to have left her.

Ginny snorted. "Do you think he would have sent me if he had known? No." Her shoulders also slumped.

"You didn't know? You didn't know what the ring would do? What it was?" Pansy asked, clarified.

"No," Ginny admitted.

Pansy looked out the window. "So you get what I always wished for. Merlin, I hate you for that." But there was no malice in her voice, just empty sadness. "But now… Now I wish I had not pushed Blaise away."

"You want to be married?" Ginny asked.

Pansy snorted. "Not particularly. But my inheritance doesn't come to me until I am married."

Ginny looked down at her hand. "I wish I could give it to you."

Pansy laughed shortly, without humour. "Oh, don't worry. Feel free to have Draco. He's painfully opinionated, never admits he's wrong, hurts people rather than injuring his pride… Loves his money more than anything; except, it seems, his life. I only made my plans for him because I knew this way to force him… But even that seems to have backfired. I will have to find some other way to support myself."

"Your parents…?"

"Father died in the war… Mother passed away last year. I've been living on very little. Father wrote the clause in the inheritance. Mother couldn't change it. And now… I suppose I will just have to find some guy off the street to marry."

Ginny frowned. "I have brothers, you know."

Pansy scrunched her nose. "They're all married. I checked."

Ginny paused. That was true, she supposed. "Ron isn't married anymore."

Pansy laughed. "Oh, Weasley was always one doomed to failure at whatever he put his hand to…"

"Hey, that's my brother you're talking about," Ginny warned.

Pansy looked unrepentant. "He followed around Potter's robe-tails for most of his Hogwarts time; he couldn't play Quidditch; it took Granger hitting him over the head to notice that she liked him… They disappeared out to the Muggle world, didn't they? Couldn't even hack being a wizard during this time…"

Ginny gritted her teeth. The worst part was that it was all true. "I should probably say something to defend my brother," she ground out. Pansy looked over at the redhead, noticed that she'd perhaps gone too far.

"I'm sorry; I do tend to be blunt about people's failings. It's probably a way of avoiding looking at my own," she gave Ginny a sad smile. "Because my life hasn't been very successful either."

Ginny, hearing the bitterness, shrugged. "Why don't you come to the Leaky Cauldron and see Malfoy? He can make a plea for his ring."

Pansy looked out the window for a long minute. "Draco and I were never that close. But I suppose I might go and see him."

Ginny gritted her teeth. "How can I get you to give me that ring?"

Pansy looked surprised, met the other woman's eyes. "Well," she mused, "you could find me a husband?"

Ginny sighed inwardly. Why couldn't life just be simple?


	28. Chapter 28

Ginny collapsed onto the chair in the kitchen, exhausted and feeling lost. Maude gave her a quick glance, then elbowed Molly to go and look after her daughter. Molly looked up from what she was doing, wiped her hands on her apron unnecessarily, and bustled over. Maude provided a cup of tea for the woman to bring over.

Ginny took the tea thankfully and gave her mother a wobbly smile.

"Tell me what's going on, Ginny," her mother said quietly. "Snape's been in here brewing things, Hermione's all a flutter, _Malfoy_ is staying in a room in your premises…" Molly looked worried. Ginny desperately wanted to share her problems with her mother, like when she was a girl, safe in the knowledge that she would know what to do. All the times when her mother had helped her swum in her mind, and she was on the verge of spilling the whole sordid story when Maude dropped a pan on the bench with a clatter, startling them all.

Ginny pulled herself together a little. There was no way that she could share the whole story with her mother. But she really should say something. "Mum, I'm… Gosh, Malfoy talked to me yesterday. He looks really sick, and he said that he's dying. Someone stole an item enchanted to him, so he came to ask if I had any contacts who might be able to find it for him. After all, us lower class people are so much closer to criminal scum than he is…" Ginny trailed off, saw her mother's eyes narrow, and kept talking. "Snape was here, so I got Malfoy to stay nearby so that he can help him. He said he would pay me well," she added. Molly frowned.

"He really took after his parents, with their superior attitudes. We don't need his money, Ginny," her mother added, "so why are you helping him?"

Ginny sighed inwardly. "I'm a nice person, mum. He's dying, and I might be able to help. He doesn't deserve to die just because he's a snob."

Molly searched her daughter's face for a moment, then seemed satisfied. "Ok, dear. I'll make sure I send up some chicken soup, then."

"Don't make too much effort, mum. He's still Malfoy."

Molly gave her a grin over her shoulder. "I know, dear."

Ginny shook her head. There really was no question where the twins got their mischeviousness from. The familiar twinge in her gut at the memory of her dead brothers pinched hard, and she drank from her cup in an effort to avoid thinking about it more.

Hermione entered the kitchen carrying a brown paper parcel and a smile on her face. She sat down with Ginny. "The prototypes of the potions are done," she announced. Her eyes were shining with the exhilaration of finishing the daunting task. "These are the samples we're giving to St. Mungo's. Once this is done, all that's left to do is cross our fingers and wait. How did this morning go?"

Ginny grimaced. "Pansy wants a husband."

Hermione shrugged. "So find her one."

"I'm pretty sure she has standards."

"They can't be very high… She is Pansy, after all. She followed Malfoy around like a puppy dog for the seven years we were at school."

"Have you any way to get in contact with Blaise?"

Hermione frowned. "No, I don't. Maybe Severus does. But what a horrible fate to try to talk him into!"

Ginny pulled a face at her friend. "What a horrible fate for me if I don't get that ring," she replied.

Hermione nodded in reply. "There is that."

Ginny gazed over at her mother and Maude, bustling around the kitchen, filling orders and putting them up for the waitresses to take out to tables. "I could try to talk Ron into marrying her," she said absently.

Hermione's face closed into a blank mask. "You could," she said neutrally.

Ginny eyed her friend carefully. "Was he really that bad?"

Hermione looked away, her cheeks flushing. "You don't want to know, Ginny," she said finally.

There was a long silence. Ginny reached over the table and squeezed Hermione's hand. When Hermione looked back up at Ginny, there were tears in her eyes. Then Hermione was up and putting her coat back on. "Must get these over to the hospital. Shall I come back for supper?"

Ginny nodded. "Sounds good, Hermione. I'll see you around 8 then?"

Hermione agreed, then left. Ginny frowned after her. Time to talk to Ron, she decided.

Ginny helped behind the bar for the afternoon, and then bustled around tables during the beginning of the dinner rush. Hermione came for supper, and they enjoyed the Cottage Pie with a glass of red wine. Snape arrived before dessert, and Ginny was surprised that his conversation was interesting, and his characteristic scowl rarely made an appearance. Eventually talk turned toward business, though Ginny would have much preferred that it stay abstract.

"So, Pansy?" Snape asked. Ginny sighed.

"She wants a husband."

"Good luck to her."

"She was going to force Malfoy to marry her. Her father's will won't give her access to her inheritance until she's married."

Snape grunted. "So?"

"She'll give up the ring if I find her a husband. Do you have any contact with Blaise?"

Snape frowned. "Won't work."

"Why not?"

Snape levelled a dark glare at Ginny. "Because he's got a woman already," he said.

Both women looked at him with interest.

"I'm not permitted to tell you, so just keep the conversation moving along. Zabini is out of the running. I assume that there is a pureblood stipulation?"

"She wasn't explicit, but I assume so. I am fairly sure that most of the purebloods from school are married already."

Snape frowned, and Hermione hummed in thought. Ginny just sat. She already knew that no other purebloods were unmarried. With the uncertain political situation – and the major losses sustained in Voldemort's downfall – many people had jumped into marriage early. That left Ron.

Which was the exact point to which Snape came. "Your brother," he announced. Ginny nodded wearily. Hermione's eyes glazed over. Snape took her chin gently in his hand. "It was the drink. You know it. And he's gone from your life now." He turned her face to his and wouldn't let her drop her chin until she met his eyes and nodded. She took in a deep breath. "And we need your inside information to get this to work," Snape added. Hermione grimaced at the table and blew the breath out.

"Don't have any idea how I'm going to convince him," Ginny muttered, "but Pansy would marry anything with pure blood and male anatomy."

Snape grinned nastily. "And she will get exactly what she deserves."


	29. Chapter 29

Hermione took Malfoy's potion up to him that night. He was sitting in his chair watching the night sky out the window. Knocking on the doorframe, she entered timidly when he waved her in.

"You get maid duty tonight, Granger?" He didn't look at her, and his voice was rough from not speaking.

Hermione didn't bother to correct him. "Yes," she replied. "Here's your potion." She handed it over, and Malfoy cradled it in his lap. "Are you going to drink that?"

Malfoy glanced over at her. "Worried for me, Granger?"

Hermione felt her shoulders tense. With conscious effort, she steadied her breathing. "Not particularly. But it's polite to hope for people not to die."

Malfoy laughed a little, which degenerated into a choking cough. Hermione held herself still until he finished. He raised the glass, toasted her and gulped it down. "Diluted, and still disgusting. But I'd better not disappoint you and die."

"Thankyou, I think," she replied under her breath.

"What was that?" he demanded, and Hermione scooted backward, away from him. Malfoy seemed alarmed at her reaction. "What are you doing, Granger? I just wanted to know what you said – it almost sounded witty. I wasn't going to attack you."

"No, of course not," she replied, inching forward to perch on the bed.

He narrowed his eyes, as though thinking of something. "Did you expect me to attack you?"

Hermione avoided his eyes. "Why would I expect that?"

Malfoy turned his chair to face her. "Well, maybe that idiot Weasley wasn't as wimpy as he seemed."

"Oh, so you do remember that I'm married?" Hermione jibed, not entirely comfortable in the room, nor sure how to handle this terribly ill former enemy.

Malfoy raised an eyebrow. "As far as I can tell, you aren't married anymore."

"Well, there's been no official divorce papers…"

Malfoy waved off her words. "Of course not. You take the ring off, you go back to your parents. If you want to go to extreme lengths, you grind the ring to dust and scatter it like ashes to the four winds."

"Well, you can't do that, can you?" Hermione snapped, feeling ignorant.

Malfoy snorted. "I wish I could, Granger. Unfortunately, my ancestors traded that freedom away generations ago. But we are pretty far a-field. I was asking if Weasley treated you poorly."

Hermione avoided his gaze, indignity warring in her with the desperate need to share her suffering.

"I'll take that as a yes," Malfoy commented after a long silence.

"It was the drink," she murmured. Malfoy snorted again. "No, really, it was. He was fine the rest of the time. But when he was drunk… Gods," she shuddered.

"And then he was drunk increasing amounts of the time?" Malfoy surmised. He turned to stare out the dark window once more. Hermione wiped her eyes, tried to warm the chill in her body and fight the burn of anger in her throat at the same time. "Did you tell Weasley… Ginny, I mean," he added to clarify.

Hermione shook her head. "What could I say? I mean, I told her… but not how bad it was. He's still her brother. And the Weasleys are very close."

"And it would be such a crime to shatter her innocence," he mocked.

"What's wrong with a family being close?" she demanded.

Malfoy was silent, looking out the window again. His face was blank, but Hermione thought she could see a tear slipping down his cheek. "There's nothing wrong with that," he said finally, his voice rough once more.

"But you miss your family?"

Malfoy pinned her with a direct look, trying to see if she was mocking him. "Of course I do. Watching on while Voldemort murdered my parents because of my failures… Barely escaping with my life… Learning later that Severus could have intervened but refused to… Yes, I miss my family, and I am jealous of other families having what I no longer have." He stared at her, his eyes daring her to deem his feelings unworthy.

Hermione reached out her hand to him, resting her palm on his forearm reassuringly. He stared at her, looked down at her hand, then lowered his head and cried silently. After a few minutes, his tears cleared and he wiped his face dry.

"I think I would like to sleep now, if you don't mind Granger."

Hermione nodded, stood. "Ok. And it's Hermione."

Malfoy stood as well. He held out his hand for her to shake. "And it's Draco." Hermione smiled and took his hand, shook it, then moved to leave.

"Goodnight, Draco," she said at the doorway. Malfoy gave her a half-smile. "Goodnight Hermione. Severus is a lucky man," he added.

He chuckled at her blush as he closed the door.


	30. Chapter 30

Ron Weasley was sitting in his room at the Burrow. Ginny waltzed in, flopped down on his bed.

"Merlin, Ginny!" he exclaimed, jumping. "What on earth are you doing here?"

"Oh, you know, saying hi, finding out if you want to get married again… the usual."

"What are you going on about?"

Ginny rolled over and sat up. "I've got a problem," she said.

"So do I; you're here, babbling in my private room."

"No, really Ron." Ginny struggled over how much to tell her brother, but she had never been very good at keeping much from Ron. "I need you to marry someone for me."

"Well, the last round didn't go very well, so why should I try again?" Ron looked at her, frowned. "Who is it, anyway?"

Ginny frowned back. "Pansy Parkinson."

"WHAT?!" Ron jumped out of his chair and looked about to jump on Ginny, before realising that they were now adults. "You're having me on." He sat down heavily. "Well, start explaining."

Ginny hesitated, then began to spill the whole story to her brother. He interjected numerous times – "Snape?! You actually worked for him?" – and Ginny left out the entire Hermione element. Somehow, she thought that he might object to Snape taking an active interest in his ex-wife.

"Wow," Ron let out a breath. "That's some story. And now, to save Malfoy's life, I have to marry Pansy Parkinson."

"Yep," she replied.

"Save Malfoy's life… Couldn't you just let him die?" Ron looked over at her. Ginny shook her head. She'd already considered her options. Ron gave her a stunned look. "You _want_ to marry Malfoy?"

Ginny snorted. "I'm already married to him, Ron. My choice is to let him die or help him live. And, horrible as Malfoy is, I'm not a murderer."

Ron shook his head, bewildered. "Does Mum know?"

"Merlin, no!"

"What will you tell her when she finds out you're married, then?"

Ginny shrugged uncomfortably. "I don't know. That he's a nice person or something."

Ron sniffed. "Don't start lying to our mother, Ginny. She'll spot you a mile off."

"I know. But what am I supposed to do?"

Ron sighed, his shoulders slumping. "Exactly what you're doing, I guess. I'll come to the Leaky Cauldron tomorrow for lunch."

"Thanks, Ron." Ginny gave her brother a hug.

He looked up with a strange expression on his face. "Will Hermione be there?"

"No, she's got a job elsewhere now. Why?"

"Just… Just wondering. I don't think she'd be too enthusiastic about seeing me, that's all. But I wanted to tell her that I'm better now."

"Because you're not drinking anymore?"

Ron nodded.

"How bad were you when you were drinking, Ron?"

Ron flushed. "Bad," he said.

"No, Ron; _how bad_?"

He wouldn't meet her eyes. "I… God, everything was her fault when I was drunk. I felt like she wasn't being a proper wife. And I wasn't a proper man. So… I… forced her."

Ginny sat back as though she'd been slapped.

"That's why I didn't tell anyone," he mumbled.

"More than once?" She demanded. Ron nodded dumbly. "Oh, sweet Merlin, Ron. You're better than that. If you ever touch a drop of alcohol ever again, I'll slap you silly."

Ron nodded again, and he looked so miserable that Ginny couldn't stay properly angry with him. She leaned over and gave him a hug. He held her around the waist and cried into her shoulder for long minutes. Eventually he stilled, pulled back. "Can you forgive me?"

Ginny searched his face. "Not yet," she said. "And don't even ask me to guess if Hermione will forgive you. But perhaps you could see marrying Pansy as your penance?"

Ron snuffled, nodded. Ginny kissed the top of his head as she stood. "I'll see you tomorrow, Ron. I still love you," she added, "even though I'm really angry with you. I still love you, Ron."

Ron nodded at her, then turned away as more tears slid down his face.


	31. Chapter 31

Snape had merely nodded when Ginny told him to keep Hermione away from the Leaky Cauldron at lunch time. So, when Pansy had arrived at twelve and seated herself in a bright corner at the front of the dining room next to the window, Ginny worried only about her brother turning up. Ginny wandered over to her table and opened a bottle of red wine for the dark-haired woman. Pansy grabbed her arm, pulled her down to speak into her ear.

"Will he agree, do you think?"

Ginny gave a hesitant nod. "Probably, unless you're terribly rude."

"I know it's stupid, but I'm dreadfully nervous."

Ginny looked at the woman. She was sitting straight in her seat, facing the window. The bright light showed off her pale complexion, dark hair and calm-seeming face. "You certainly don't look it," Ginny commented.

"Oh, good," Pansy replied. "Now go and get him. I'm about two weeks away from complete destitution."

Ginny straightened, gave the other woman a wry smile before heading back into the kitchen. Ron was sitting at a table, peeling potatoes for his mother. "Oh, Mum's got you in your place, does she?" Ginny commented when she spotted him. He gave her a lop-sided smile and handed over the knife.

"All yours," he said. Ginny rolled her eyes, but took the small blade. "Do, uh… Do I look alright?"

Ginny laughed at her brother and pushed him into the dining room. "Fine," she said, her voice light with mirth. "She's next to the window." Ginny leaned on the doorframe, watched him walk over. She saw Pansy's smile and watched Ron sit opposite the woman.

"What are you up to, Ginny?" Molly asked her daughter, and Ginny turned to see her mother standing next to her, watching Ron as well. Ginny fiddled with the knife, trying to find a good explanation about what was going on.

"You know how I told you that Malfoy was dying? Well, this is to do with that." Molly raised an eyebrow at her daughter, waited for her to continue explaining. Ginny gave a sigh. "It's an enchanted item that's killing him. And Pansy's got it. I asked her what I would have to do to get her to give it to me. She said she wanted a husband, so," Ginny waved a hand at the table. Ginny and Molly both paused as they watched Pansy try to pour a glass of wine for Ron, and he made profuse movements to stop her. She seemed surprised, and Ron – blushing furiously – lowered his head indicated that he didn't want to talk about it. Pansy set the bottle down hard. Ron looked up, then began to talk again with the air of one expecting death at any moment.

"Good," Molly said. "And good to you, too," she said to Ginny, turning to face her. "I'm glad you're getting somewhere with that. I chatted with Malfoy the other day, and although he seemed civil, I will be relieved when he's well enough to go home. And I am also glad that Ron will be out of home again. He's been moping, refusing to get over his marriage ending and your father and I have had enough of being moped around. We thought we'd finished with all that now that we don't have any more teenagers. But, right now, I need you to come over here and finish up with these potatoes."

Ginny smiled at her mum. "Ok, mum. I love you," She added.

"I love you too, darling. But that doesn't get you out of potato duty," Molly said as she shooed her daughter over to the chair to peel potatoes. Ginny laughed. Maude smiled at them both, then handed Ginny an even bigger stack of potatoes. Ginny eyed the mountain dubiously, sighed, and got to work.


	32. Chapter 32

Ginny flopped down on Malfoy's bed, not bothering to knock at the door. He sat where he always sat: in the chair, facing the window, regardless of the time of day. He didn't glance over, though Ginny assumed that he had heard her. She had made no efforts to be quiet.

"So what's the fascination with the window?" she asked, breaking the silence.

Malfoy's lips twitched into a tiny smile – gone before it was fully formed. "Never thought you'd ask. I'm watching the sky," he said, as though that explained everything. Ginny waited, expecting more answer to come. Malfoy glanced over at her. "What, you want more?"

"Is there more?"

He shrugged, gazed out the window. "Not really. I'm thinking about my life, wondering what I would have done differently." He fell silent.

"Well?" Ginny asked.

"Well, what?"

"Well, what would you have done differently?"

"You are far too curious for your own good, do you realise that?"

"Of course. Now tell me."

Malfoy glanced over again. "I could refuse to tell you, just to see the faces you pull," he suggested.

Ginny grimaced. "Not that interested," she replied.

"I don't know," he smirked, "that was a pretty good face."

Ginny stuck her tongue out at him.

"Oh, juvenile. Lovely. Good to be reminded who I am speaking with: a Weasley." But there was a hint of humour around his words that kept her from taking offence.

"Tell me or don't tell me, I was curious but I'm not going to beg."

Malfoy shrugged. "My father told me, when I was little, that one day I would be one of the most important people in Britain's Wizarding community. And, yet, every few weeks, he would rage about how Harry Potter had destroyed some amazing plan of his to become even more powerful, richer. I grew up hating Harry Potter, did you know that?"

He looked over, and Ginny sensed that he wanted a response. "I grew up worshipping Harry Potter… Though, that got me a long way, didn't it."

"I wouldn't know, Weasley," he replied airily. "But I would have done a great deal to have had the publicity – the attention – that he had, for something he couldn't even remember. I spent a lot of my energy during my life on Harry Potter."

Ginny snorted. "Didn't we all?"

He raised an eyebrow. "Did we all?"

Ginny rolled onto her back and made an undignified noise. "The first time that I saw Harry Potter, he was wearing a baggy jumper and track pants, and his glasses were broken. And I thought I was in heaven. I obsessed about him for twelve whole months before I saw him again – and the next time I saw him, he was in my house and I put my elbow in the butter dish. Every ounce of teen angst was expended in his direction. Merlin, even when I was dating other people, I was thinking about Harry. And, when it was all over, he just walked away. He said, 'I'm just not ready, Ginny,' and walked away and never came back."

"Teen angst? Terrible." There was a shadow in Malfoy's expression that Ginny couldn't place. She sat up. He continued to stare out the window. "Ah, childhood. It really is a cruel fate, putting a thousand teenagers into a stone building and keeping them there for seven years. But I am glad that my mother argued to send me to the Hogwarts dungeon rather than the Durmstrang dungeon. Did you really go to see Pansy?"

Ginny blinked at the change of subject. "Yes," she replied. "She looked well… except for the bills she had piling up. Apparently her father put a clause in his will, keeping her from the money until she was married."

Malfoy laughed a little. "Of course he did. He was a man who expected to be obeyed. Pansy didn't show up at the final confrontation, her father would have punished her for that."

Ginny frowned, feeling unexpected sympathy for the woman. "Well, I've hooked her up with my brother. Soon enough…" She halted as Malfoy burst out laughing. It was surprising to hear genuine, loud, surprised laughter coming from the blond man. He continued laughing for a long while, and when he eventually quieted, Ginny asked why he had laughed.

The question elicited another chuckle from Malfoy. "Your brother is a mule. Do you know how he treated Hermione?"

"Hermione?" She repeated, "and yes, I do, thankyou."

"Yes, Hermione. A decent enough woman; though, believe me, I would not personally pursue her."

"Oh?" Ginny replied, her tone dangerous. "And why is that? Her blood not pure enough for you?"

Malfoy gave her an amused smile. "No, no, that doesn't bother me very much. It's more that I value my life: Severus is mixing this magic potion that keeps me alive, and I'd rather that it doesn't miraculously become poisonous."

Ginny felt heat rising in her cheeks. "Oh, ok. Why were you laughing, before?"

"It seemed the ultimate irony. If Pansy had both rings, she would have forced me into marrying her – though, I suppose, if I had known that it was her, I may have preferred death. And your brother… Well, let me say, if I thought it would help anything, I may actually spend some money to have him killed. But I believe your plan is much more devious, and will actually achieve more desirable outcomes."

Ginny frowned. "Pansy didn't seem too bad. And Ron's a good person… When he's not been drinking."

"Oh, Pansy may have mellowed a little. But she is opinionated, domineering, manipulative and will do anything to get her own way. And your brother is welcome to her."

"Pansy was happy to share your character flaws," Ginny threw back. "She characterised you as, and I quote, 'painfully opinionated, never admits he's wrong, hurts people rather than injuring his pride… Loves his money more than anything; except his life'."

Malfoy chuckled. "Ah, that's Pansy all right. I must admit that, at school, I used her quips as often as my own, and to great effect. Pansy was never any good under pressure: she didn't have the flair for presentation that I have."

"And accurate?"

"Oh, always. That's what makes it funny, you know. Humour. When faced with the bald truth, we react one of two ways: with aggression or with laughter. The difference is in the delivery, and reading your audience." Ginny sat back and stared at Malfoy, who had now turned to face her in his chair.

"You're not disputing what she said about you?"

"No, why would I? Not everyone is in complete denial about their negative aspects," he jibed.

Ginny narrowed her eyes. Before she could retort, Malfoy closed his eyes and slumped in his chair. Instantly, Ginny remembered why she was actually in Malfoy's room. She mixed up the strengthening potion in the glass on the nightstand.

"Malfoy?" She demanded loudly. Reaching over, she shook his shoulder. He stirred a little, and Ginny felt her hand tingle. Snatching it back, she cursed quietly about the stupid predicament she'd got herself into. Malfoy's eyes opened, unfocussed. "Malfoy, drink this," she said clearly, holding the glass up to his mouth. Most of the potion made it into him. After a few long moments, Malfoy's eyes focussed again. Ginny could feel her hands shaking.

"Going to a great deal of trouble to keep me alive, Weasley," he commented.

"I'm a nice person," she retorted.

He raised an eyebrow. "I'm sure you are."

Ginny got up. "Get some sleep, Malfoy," she replied, leaving and closing the door behind herself before he could say anything more.

Sleep was long in coming, that night.


	33. Chapter 33

Hermione collapsed into a chair, wearily blowing her hair back from her face. In her pockets were a number of gold-covered items – earrings, necklaces, bracelets. Severus had given her the darkest stare when she had admitted what she and Ginny had done with the Pearls; but after a moment, he had laughed. He seemed to find some morbid amusement in being burgled. Hermione supposed that if she had been willing to commission a theft then realised she had been stolen from by the thief she would be amused also. But only after she got past being really grumpy. She shrugged. It had taken all sorts of convincing to get the darned things back.

Blaise sat opposite her. He was smiling, but there were stress lines on his forehead that hadn't been there before.

"Well, Hermione, how are you?"

Hermione sighed. "Tired, run down, overworked, but otherwise fine. Yourself?"

Blaise's expression turned wry. He looked away. "Tired, emotionally exhausted, otherwise fine. Sorry to get right to the point, but why did you request supper tonight?"

Hermione frowned a little at Blaise, but he seemed unwilling to share. "The earring I gave you, I need it back."

Blaise shrugged, took it out and handed it back. "Wondered what you would do with it," he added.

"You aren't going to get angry with me for asking for it back?" Hermione could see all the other recipients in her mind's eye grumbling over her asking for it back. The 'luck' they had received had been a hard thing to return.

Blaise gave her a long, weary look. "I knew what it was when I took it. And my power… Well, perhaps getting back to my own luck will be better." And he looked away.

Hermione shook her head. "Do you want to talk about it?" She offered. Blaise shook his head slowly.

"It's not something I want to burden you with. But, tell me, how goes your application to St. Mungo's?"

Hermione thought about latching onto the subject, trying to draw Blaise out. She discarded the idea slowly: the man was obviously not in a good way, but perhaps he didn't need the burden of another person knowing about his worries. So she conversed with him over supper about all sorts of interesting things, from the potions she and Snape had sent to St. Mungo's to the price of food and the lack of governance of Wizarding Britain. Finally, when supper was over and she was standing to leave, she brought the topic up again.

"You know, Blaise, if you ever want someone to talk to… I'm happy to listen." She laughed quietly. "And if you're not comfortable talking with me, Draco seems to have developed quite the listening ear."

Blaise started, stared at Hermione. "Malfoy? His Majesty of the Mighty Opinions? I have never known him to listen to another person… Ever." He peered at her. "You haven't been feeding him strange, experimental potions, have you?"

Hermione laughed, more at Blaise's humour than his joke. "No, no. If you want to know, feel free to come down to the Leaky Cauldron and see him. Yes," she added at his surprised look, "he's slumming it with the rest of us." She smiled.

Blaise nodded slowly. "I might do that. I haven't seen him for years. Keep safe, Hermione," he said, giving her a quick embrace before leaving to pay the bill. Hermione watched his back for a couple of moments before turning and leaving herself.

Back at the Leaky Cauldron, Hermione found Severus exiting Draco's room. He was wearing a worried frown that followed familiar creases in his face. His expression eased when he saw her.

"Worried about him?" she asked quietly as they walked down the hallway.

Severus' frown became thoughtful. "He seems to have little inclination to keep himself alive. I wonder about his emotional health. He seems to be preparing himself to die. Ruminating over his life. He barely resembles himself."

"You knew him well when he was growing up, didn't you?"

"I was his Godfather. I took the responsibility seriously."

"Who was his Godmother?" Hermione wondered aloud.

Severus snorted. "His Aunt."

"Andromeda Tonks?" Hermione gasped.

"Hermione, are you quite well?" He sneered. "No. Bellatrix Black."

Hermione shuddered, a phantom memory glaring black-eyed at her down the length of a wand. She flinched. Severus surrounded her shoulders with his arm, pulled her close as they descended down the stairs. "I often have much the same reaction," he confided quietly. He steered her into a small meeting room with several comfortable chairs. Ginny was already seated inside.

"I believe that we have all the Paradise Pearls collected," Severus stated, walking to stand beside the fireplace. Ginny nodded from her chair. Hermione slumped into a chair, suddenly feeling tired from the wrangling she'd had to do all day.

"I really didn't expect to have to fight so hard to get people to give the damn things back," she said.

There was a time of silence. "What will you do with them?" Ginny asked.

Severus turned to look at her. "I think we will grind them up and scatter them into the sea."

Ginny raised an eyebrow. "You convinced me to steal them, and now you are going to throw them away?"

Severus gave her a weary look. "I am too tired for humour right now, Weasley. I believe the ocean will be the best option."

Hermione nodded slowly, and Ginny added, "Don't forget to take the five in my drawer."

"I'll go get them now," Hermione said, pulling herself up onto weary feet. "Otherwise I'll forget and we'll have to go through the process twice. Play nice," she added as she left. Severus gave her a wicked grin.

Once Hermione was gone, Snape turned to Ginny.

"I am worried about Draco," he stated. Ginny frowned. "He… seems to have to inclination to pursue life. How has he seemed to you?"

Ginny nodded slowly. "I've noticed much the same thing. Actually, I'm quite sure that he is looking for the attention. He wants to know how much we care," she clarified at Snape's dark look. "He said to me last night, 'you're going to a lot of trouble to keep me alive.' And we are. I think he needs to know that he's worth the trouble."

Snape raised an eyebrow at her. "Melodramatic, but then, Draco usually is. Has he… opened up to you?"

Ginny frowned. "I suppose you could call it that. When I ask him questions, he actually answers them. He keeps the conversation going, as well."

Snape nodded. He stared deep into the fire. "You haven't told him."

There was no question in the statement. "No," she replied unnecessarily.

Snape looked over at her. "He needs to know."

Ginny looked down at her hands. The copper band gleamed dully up at her with firelight. "I know."


	34. Chapter 34

Four people stood on a bluff above the ocean. It was a freezing day, the sky overhead heavy and foreboding. Hermione stood close to Severus, his taller frame breaking the wind. Ginny stood to one side, her loose red hair flying in every direction. Draco stood to the other side of the couple, holding on to the wooden post in front of him. Nobody was quite sure who had invited him to this little ceremony – nor, even, who had decided that there would be a ceremony.

The dust of the Paradise Pearls was contained in a small jar. So much pain, all locked up in such small objects, Hermione thought to herself as she turned to listen to Severus' voice.

"Pearls, you have served your time here on land. Take your manipulations back to the waters from which you came." Severus took the jar from her, unlidded it and flung the dirty grey dust expertly before him. The wind gave a violent gust and carried the powder far over the ocean.

"Magic, move as you will," Severus said loudly. The other three echoed his words. Then the ceremony was over. The four cold people turned to face the land again and began the walk back down to the trees.

"Well, that's one problem finished with," Ginny muttered just loud enough for Snape to hear. He met her eyes, let her know that he had heard. Draco stumbled, and Hermione grabbed his arm to steady him. They shuffled together until they hit the shelter of the trees. Draco sat heavily on an overturned tree. His face was tinged blue and he simply wrapped his arms around himself. He didn't shiver.

Ginny looked at him, took in his appearance. "Let's go home," she said to Snape. "He's almost frozen, and Merlin knows I'm not much better."

"I'll take him with me," Snape said. Draco looked up and nodded. Severus pulled him to his feet, held his forearms tightly and turned sharply. With a loud pop, they were gone.

"Guess we'd better go as well," Hermione suggested. She stepped forward and grabbed Ginny's arm as the woman was about to fall over.

"Get me home, Hermione," Ginny whispered. So Hermione did.

They returned to the small meeting room with the comfortable chairs. Draco was slumped in one, an empty glass beside him. Severus was standing by the fire which was doing an admirable job of keeping the chill out of the room. Hermione guided Ginny down to a chair, then sat also. Severus put a glass in Ginny's hand, and the woman drank it in one long swallow.

They had left food on a table here, to eat when they returned. Hermione began to spoon the soup into bowls. She exchanged a worried look with Severus as she handed one to him.

"Perhaps you should go and speak with Pansy," Severus suggested. Hermione finished her mouthful of soup.

"Someone has to do something," she replied. After another mouthful, she added, "I'll go."

Severus sat down beside her, took a piece of bread from the table. "After lunch," he added. Hermione gave him a warm smile.

"Of course."

The afternoon was as cold as the morning. Hermione decided that she would move to the Mediterranean as soon as was humanly possible. Then she knocked on Pansy's door.

The woman who opened the door could only have been Pansy Parkinson. Her long black hair was loose today, and she seemed almost unsurprised to see Hermione on her doorstep.

"Merlin, woman, what are you doing here?" She said. Perhaps that tinge of surprise that Hermione could detect was as close to shock as the woman's expression came.

"Thought I'd come and ask you how you're progressing with my… With Ron," she amended.

"Oh," Pansy exhaled. "Well, come in, come in, you're letting the cold in." She led Hermione down a long hallway, eventually coming to a halt in a small sitting room.

Pansy called a house elf, asked for afternoon tea, then waved at Hermione to sit. "Things with Ron are going swimmingly. Currently, he is off arguing with his mother about where the wedding will be held."

"He's staying here?" Hermione asked. Perhaps her voice was too shrill, for Pansy gave her a strange look.

"No. There will be plenty of time for him to make himself comfortable here after we are married. Will you, Snape, Draco and Ginny come to the ceremony? It will be held in the garden on Sunday."

"Whose garden?" Hermione asked, stalling while she processed her answer.

"Ah, well, that is what the arguing is about. But, after Ron has finished trying to convince his mother, I will tell her that it will be held here."

"Ah," Hermione replied.

Pansy spoke again before Hermione could try to find a way to escape seeing her ex-husband. "Hermione, I know what he did to you."

And, somehow, Hermione could find nothing at all to say. The tea arrived, and Pansy poured for them.

"I know what he did to you, and, believe me, I will never let him forget." There was a hard gleam in the other woman's black eyes. "I'd really appreciate having you at the ceremony. To remind him. And Snape, Draco and you to sit on my side of the garden. Ron has family to sit on his side. Mine will seem… rather empty."

Hermione was mildly appalled at the woman's nastiness. But, somewhere inside her, a little vengeful voice did an undignified dance that made her feel fiercely happy. "I would be honoured to sit on your side of the garden," she heard herself replying to Pansy. The dark haired woman gave her a small smirk.

"How is Ginny faring, by the way?" Pansy asked her.

"Ah," Hermione replied. "Actually, not very well. We… Oh, I don't even know how to explain what we did this morning. But we were outside, and it was very cold. And, by the time Severus and I got Draco and Ginny back inside, they were both like limp rags. Even Severus' potion didn't perk them up. I'm worried."

Pansy turned to look out the window. Hermione wondered if this was a Slytherin way of saying, 'I want to think about this'. She sipped her tea.

Pansy reached under her neckline, drew out a necklace with a ring threaded onto it. It didn't take Hermione very long to deduce that this was the ring which was causing all the trouble. It looked heavy, etched with ivy leaves and sparkling with emeralds. Pansy sighed.

"I suppose that Ginny has kept her side of the bargain. She offered up her own brother, in fact. So, here." Pansy yanked the chain, broke the clasp and handed the whole thing over to Hermione.

Hermione was startled by how cold the ring felt. It had been sitting against Pansy's skin, but felt as icy as the wind had been this morning. "Thankyou," she said.

Pansy nodded, drank her tea. After a moment, she said, "Tell Snape to add some cayenne pepper to his potion."

"Why?" Hermione asked, taking another sip of her tea. It really was quite nice tea.

Pansy smiled. "It was one of my mother's secrets. Some cayenne pepper pushes at the passions, brings up a sweat. It might help a little. And I'm asking you to tell him, because if I told him to, he'd just say no." She gave a small laugh. "And I like to get my way."

Hermione shook her head at the other woman. But, strangely, she discovered that, instead of the enmity that she had once felt for her, this Pansy Parkinson was someone that she could like. "I'll get him to do it," she replied. And the smile she gave the dark haired woman was genuine and warm.


	35. Chapter 35

Snape was standing by the fire when Ginny persuaded her eyelids to open. A violent shiver shook her, then subsided. The aroma of potato and leek soup tickled her nostrils, and she leaned forward to retrieve some.

It was disturbingly cold. Looking up at Snape, Ginny asked, "How long was I out?"

Snape looked over at her. "About half an hour," he replied tartly. He aimed a warming charm at the bowl, and Ginny snatched her hands away as the pottery burned her fingers.

"Thanks," she replied. "Where's Hermione?"

"Gone to do your dirty work," he said, glancing over at Malfoy.

"Oh," Ginny said, hoping that word would convey all her thoughts.

Snape seemed to get the gist. He gave her a nasty smile, then added, "I believe I should go and start preparing a new batch of the strengthening potion. The efficacy of this one seems to be waning. Enjoy your soup," he said as he swept from the room.

Ginny sighed, then jumped a little as the door slammed. Malfoy gave a short bark of laughter, opened his eyes.

"And he accuses me of being melodramatic!"

Ginny started, wondering how he had overheard that piece of information.

Malfoy caught her expression. "Oh, he's always said that of me," he said pleasantly. He gave her a sly sideways look. "Why, has he said it recently?"

Ginny felt her jaw lock. She was on the back foot. With six older brothers (three older brothers, the traitorous little voice said in her mind, pinching her stomach painfully), she had always hated being on the defensive. "Oh, just that you didn't seem to want to live. Do you always pretend to be unconscious? Is that how you make your uncanny business deals? No insider trading, just plenty of feigned illness?"

Malfoy, far from getting riled up, looked amused. Ginny paused to listen to herself. Damn, she thought, too defensive. Rather juvenile, in fact.

"Oh, please, don't let me stop you, you were just starting to get interesting," he said, settling back into his chair with a piece of buttered bread from the table. He took a large, unconcerned bite.

Ginny scowled, then proceeded to ignore him. She took up her (very hot) bowl, and began to eat the soup. It had been her favourite when she was younger, and it brought back fond memories of a time when her family had been so close, and her whole world.

Lost in memories, it took her a moment to realise that Malfoy was speaking.

"Do you love Potter?" He asked. He seemed rather insistent.

Ginny pondered for a moment. "No," she eventually replied. "Why, do you?"

He gave her a look that told her just how juvenile that sentiment was. "No, but I hated him. Did you know, I always wanted everything that he had? No? His fame, his scar, his broom, his friends, his success…" He trailed off.

"This going somewhere?" Perhaps she had spoken a little too sharply, because he narrowed his eyes.

"I knew it was you," he said.

The seed of panic and helplessness that had stuck in her nearly a year ago now burst into full flower. "What?" she demanded.

"I knew you put the ring on," he clarified. "Surprised? Oh, I suppose you are. I didn't know right at first. A lurch in my stomach… I cut short some very important business meetings to come back to the Estate and perform a very thorough search of the premises. Sure enough, they were gone. Nobody knew where. But then, nobody really knew they existed." He gave her a wry smile, amused at her shock. "I decided to discover who had taken them. Who I was married to," again, the self-mocking smile. "I paraded around Diagon Alley for two weeks before I felt an itch. I was eating lunch at the time, I recall. Ritzy café, quite good steak. I waited, turned around. And who did I see walking away? You.

"I must admit that I was shocked. I had expected Pansy. Though, I had actually prepared for that eventuality. She would have received a nasty surprise had she put on the ring." His smile told her that she didn't want to know. She was spellbound with horror. "So I decided to… inform you. I began to spin my web. I fed out a line about the Paradise Pearls, knowing that Severus was up to something. I hadn't really spoken to him… not since… Well, another time for that." He seemed unsettled for a moment, but moved on. "And he came to you. I knew eventually he would. There aren't many pureblood families who have stooped to thievery. Then I sent my hounds after you, knowing all the while exactly what was going on. Your performances were admirable. And finally, I prevailed upon your mercy and good nature to keep me alive." He finished with a flourish of his half-eaten bread.

Ginny stared at him. Eleven months of her life were swirling around her, suddenly taking on new perspective. She kept coming back to the times he had insisted on kissing her hand. Most gentlemanly: and unrepeated.

They had all underestimated him. Also underestimated the charms on the rings. Ginny felt sick. "But why?" she choked out. "What are you getting out of this?"

He seemed surprised. "What am I getting out of this? You are the one who put on the ring!"

Ginny exhaled a noise that could have been laughter, could have been a sob. "Gods, I just wanted to sell them! I put the stupid thing on, and I didn't even know what it did! Can't you just take it off?" She offered her hand desperately.

Malfoy stared at her. A small part of her that stood back and observed was quite satisfied that he didn't seem to have considered this as an option. "What?"

Ginny could feel the tears burning in her throat, in her sinuses. She held them in mercilessly. Like hell she'd let him see her cry. Unfortunately, holding in the tears kept her from speaking.

Perhaps silence was a worse torture than any words she could have spoken. Malfoy's already-pale face turned ashen. "What?" he repeated. "You aren't out to kill me? Though, I suppose I ruled that out when I begged for your help," he turned away from her, stared at the fire. "And you're not after money. No, I suppose, with the Leaky Cauldron's business booming, you don't need that either. You truly did not know?" He asked her, a strange lostness in his expression.

Ginny shook her head. A traitorous bead of water slid down her face.

"I… I need some time to think," he said. He closed his grey eyes, slid a hand over his face. Ginny clamped her teeth firmly together, grabbed her emotions and thrust them down. At least I'm not entirely on the back foot anymore, she thought darkly to herself.

Hermione entered the room. Assuming that Malfoy was still incapacitated, she approached Ginny. She handed over the ring without a word. Ginny's had shook as she took the shiny object. "Severus sent me up with another dose of the strengthening potion. Shall I put yours on the table?" Hermione asked, noticing that Ginny didn't seem well but mistaking the reason.

"No, no, just give it here. Put Malfoy's on the table. I'll make sure he drinks it when he wakes up."

"Anything else I can do?" Hermione seemed eager to help. Ginny wondered what had happened with Pansy.

"No, I think I just need some time to be alone."

Hermione aimed a glance at Malfoy. Ginny shrugged, and Hermione left.

Ginny downed the potion quickly. There was a strange burn to the taste. The potion was obviously stronger, however, as she began to feel better almost immediately. "You should drink that, Malfoy," she said. "Might help you think."

Malfoy opened an eye to look at her. He seemed to assess whether she was mocking him. She kept her face bland. He took the glass and drained it.

"Well?" Ginny asked. "What are we going to do?"

Malfoy stared at her. Then, he began to laugh. A small chuckle swelled into a bellowing roar. Ginny, swept up in the absurdity of the situation, laughed with him.

Wiping tears from his face, Malfoy said, "You can bloody stop calling me Malfoy, to start with."

Ginny grinned at him. "But it's got such a nice ring to it."

And that set them off again. After a few moments, Malfoy calmed down enough to say, "Buggered if I know, Ginny."

Ginny, still smiling, replied, "Well, then we're even."


	36. Chapter 36

The laughter died down, and the room was quiet again. Ginny finally finished her bowl of soup, and Draco ate some as well. Ginny found herself telling him that this had been her favourite as a child, and some of the silly memories she had of the Burrow.

"Your own brother put a firecracker into the fire _while your mum was cooking_? And nobody gave him a clip over the ear?" Draco seemed indignant.

Ginny snickered. "Oh, Dad gave him a stern talking-to. But that was kind of ruined by the fact that we all roared into laughter when mum jumped so high she brushed the ceiling, and spilled soup all down the front of her dress. And she scolded, but there was laughter in her eyes. Not really the kind of environment that discourages mischief making."

Draco shook his head, but he had a smile on his face.

"What was your family like?" Ginny asked, reaching to take another slice of bread.

Draco became still. He was silent for a minute. "We were close," he said finally. "Father always made time for me to come with him to the places he was going: he really took seriously the fact that I was going to take over his assets, and even at the age of ten I understood what those assets were and who managed them for us. He would show me his papers, explain things… Oh, I know that he was a cunning, devious man; and I'm not sure that he wasn't horrible to everyone else in the whole world. But he loved me. And I desperately didn't want to disappoint him.

"Mother… Well, she was my mother. She spoiled me rotten and I loved her for it. Her sweets bought me friends at school; and her insistence with Father put me in Hogwarts, got me on the Quidditch team, got us to the Quidditch World Cup… He loved her a lot. Nothing was too expensive for Mother: she had the best of everything. We all did.

"Voldemort… I can't get around talking about my family without talking about Voldemort." He seemed sad. "Being powerful was one of my father's failings. Voldemort courted him for his influence at the Ministry and at Gringotts. Father made it hard for him, but Voldemort won him over. And he won Mother over. So, we were dedicated to making his uprising work. We were heavily invested.

"Voldemort began to distrust Father. There was a spy in the ranks, and, while everyone had their suspicions, Voldemort suspected everyone. Every failing was made out to be deliberate. The… thing… in second year… Merlin, that was you, wasn't it?" He looked at her surprised by the recollection. Ginny nodded mutely and waved him on. He nodded and continued. "Voldemort was unhappy. And everything Father turned his hand to after that seemed to be a comedy of errors. He was put in Azkaban. The Dementors left, but his cell was locked and they just left him there. Alone. To die.

"And he did." Draco seemed determined to hold back any emotion. "Mother and I were left to fulfil Voldemort's expectations. I couldn't kill Dumbledore in my sixth year… I don't even know if my heart was in it. The old man had kept me reasonably free from Voldemort's influence for nine months of every year, and I think I realised that once he was gone, Voldemort would claim me more fully.

"Severus took me back to Voldemort. I knew there was no other option, but I did blame him for a long time. Couldn't he have taken me somewhere else? Anywhere? Voldemort does not like to be failed. And I was punished. He gave me opportunities to 'redeem' myself, but I was cursed with my Father's luck. Eventually, Voldemort decided I wasn't worth the trouble. He tried to get me to confess to being a spy by… Gods. By torturing my mother." Draco bit down on his knuckles. After a moment, he went on. "Severus was there. Apparently Voldemort gave him the choice – torture me or my mother. And he chose my mother. I… I still don't know if I've forgiven him for that. I don't know if I can.

"So, I've kept going. I withdrew Malfoy support from the Ministry, and the final remnants collapsed. I kept the assets going, and they prospered. I was… just going through the motions. Then… you put that stupid ring on. And I was finally going to be able to join my parents."

Ginny waited for him to continue speaking, but after a long moment of silence, it seemed that he was finished. He stared at the tureen on the table. Eventually, Ginny decided she should say something.

"Why did you ask me if I was in love with Potter?"

Great, Weasley, she congratulated herself, you've managed to avoid consoling him and insulted him in one breath. Just great.

Malfoy looked as though he'd been punched. "I don't know," he said flatly. The expression on his face said that he did know, and he wasn't telling.

Ginny swallowed. "Ok. Let me tell you about my family.

"I am the seventh child – and only girl – of the Weasley clan. My parents met at Hogwarts, married, and had children. Dad worked for the Ministry before it collapsed, and hasn't really discovered what to do now that it's gone. Mum looked after all of us, ran the house, tended the garden and fed us all with the meagre stipend that Dad got. Now Mum's working here; she did say that she'd come to see you, so I assume you know that.

"Bill – my oldest brother – is married to Fleur and living in France. He works for Gringotts as a curse breaker. He always let me sit on his lap when he was home, and he'd tell me gruesome stories about old witches and wizards who had died thousands of years ago. He was always my favourite brother when I was growing up.

"Charlie lives in Romania. He manages dragons out there. He has a ponytail that is still the bane of my mother's life. He married three years ago, a local girl called Joannie. He was always outside when I was little, and any expeditions to the creek or the heath were always led by him.

"Percy… Was the rule-keeper in our family. He'd do things properly, even if nobody was watching. I didn't really like him, growing up. He'd always find a way to tell us off, or to get mum to tell us off. And then he left us to stand by the Ministry… couldn't stand our 'vigilante tactics'. He was killed in Voldemort's takeover of the Ministry. I never got to say sorry for being a right brat to him.

"Fred and George were always Fred and George. They caused all the mischief in our family. They were well on their way to making their fortune from it. They were assassinated by Voldemort.

"Ron was only a year older than me. We always fought, but we were also really close. Shared experience, more than anything else. He seemed to take his responsibility to 'protect' me very seriously, more seriously than any of the rest of my brothers did. Which annoyed me no end at school, but I got over it. He's my only brother still alive and in the country. Merlin knows I want to chop off certain parts of his anatomy for the way he treated Hermione, but he's still my brother."

Draco nodded slowly. "I understand," he said. And Ginny knew he did.

"So, why did you ask me if I loved Potter?"

Draco grimaced. "You pick the worst times for conversations, did you know that?"

Ginny raised an eyebrow and waited.

"I told you I wanted everything that Potter had? Well, I wanted you too." Ginny sat back in her chair, shocked. Draco gave her an amused smile. "More as an idea than as a person. But… you defended him, threw yourself at him, worshipped him… Merlin, I wanted that. And your stupid hair didn't make it any easier to ignore you. But you were always Potter's, in your heart if not in his. He didn't want you, rotten bastard – but that only ever seemed to make you want him more. So, I wanted to know if you still loved him."

Ginny – shocked, but still alert – replied, "and I answered you. No, I don't. But why did you need to know that now?"

Draco waved a hand. Ginny stared him down. "Gods, woman. Won't you let it rest?" Ginny shook her head. He gave a sigh, fidgeted with the buttons on his shirt. "You don't want to kill me, you don't want my money. I hoped that you'd just let me die, find my parents… But I've found myself not actually wanting to die. Because you've all gone to such lengths to keep me alive," he said. "And because _you_ have gone to such lengths to keep me alive." He glanced up at how his words were being received.

Ginny could feel blood rushing to her face. "I… had no idea… I… Hang on, just let me think for a minute," she stammered. "I never expected this. I… accepted that putting on the ring made me married to you, and that I'm stuck in this. I never expected… you to feel anything for me. I don't know how I feel. I don't know you well enough. But," she said to his gloomy expression, "I… I want to try."

Ginny moved and sat next to Draco. She took his left hand and slid the ring – which, until now, had been in her pocket – on his finger.

There was a forceful burst of magic. Ginny's head spun from the noise of it. Draco was looking at her hands, and when Ginny looked down also, she saw that the wedding band on her finger had ceased its deception and was now as it truly was. Draco looked up into her face with wonder. "Really?" he whispered. When she nodded, he slid his hand behind her head, tangled his fingers in her hair and kissed her.

The magic got louder.


	37. Chapter 37

"How will I tell my parents?" Ginny murmured into Draco's cheek, where she had rested her face to catch her breath. She felt Draco smile.

"I'll tell them," he offered.

Ginny pulled back to look at him. "Oh, really?"

His smile became a smirk. "Bet I'll do it better than you do."

Ginny narrowed her eyes, but her traitorous mouth smiled. "I'll tell Dad. You can tell my Mum."

Draco shrugged. "I'll tell Severus and Hermione if you tell Ron and Pansy."

Ginny grimaced. "Oh, ok. Hey, how did you know about Ron and Pansy?"

"Severus kept me up to date. He seemed to feel obliged, for some reason. I wonder why," he made an exaggeratedly thoughtful pose.

Ginny poked him in the ribs and he flinched out of his mockery, then laughed. "You'll have to live here with me," she said. Draco scrunched his nose. "Come on, it hasn't been that bad, has it?"

"Your room wasn't next to Severus'. That man keeps odd hours and has no compunctions about brewing in his room."

Ginny shrugged. "We can take the owner's quarters on the ground floor."

"Why aren't you in there now?"

"I like the company. A big bedroom, sitting room and laundry were a bit much on my own. You forget that for most of my life I was squished into a tiny house with eight other people. I like the noise."

Draco nodded. "I'm sure I can fill up three rooms with my huge ego," he joked.

"I'll bet," she replied. As she met his eyes, this time she initiated the kiss.

They were interrupted a few minutes later by Severus and Hermione walking in. Ginny blushed, but Draco seemed unperturbed. "She's accepted the inevitable," he announced, "and decided to play nice. We'll be moving into the owner's quarters on the ground floor. At least, until I can convince her to hand management over to someone else and move to one of the properties," he added with a sly sideways glance at her. Ginny rolled her eyes.

Hermione sat heavily on the chair. Severus stood behind her with an amused look on his face. "We just came to check if you were ok, but it seems you are," Hermione said. "Pansy's invited us to the wedding on Sunday."

Draco nodded. "Good. About time." He turned to Ginny. "See? I can do this. I'm one – no, two – up on you now. Your mother's in the kitchens. I'll be done before the day's out."

Ginny snorted. "I think you're mistaking my mother for yours. Good luck."

Draco gave her a look of supreme confidence. Ginny glanced over at Severus and Hermione in time to catch the end of a look between them and the reassured cast of Severus' face. Obviously, Draco was getting back to himself.

They sat quietly for a moment, before Draco said, "Well? Where will you two be going when you lose residential rights here?"

Hermione blinked. "Well, back to my apartment, I suppose." She looked up at Severus, who gave her a blank look. "You'll have to keep your brewing in the lab. Apart from that, it's nearly habitable. Oh!" she exclaimed, turning back to Draco and Ginny. "Our application to St. Mungo's was accepted! We should be churning out potions for the next few weeks, getting their reserve supplies built up."

"Well done!" Ginny congratulated them.

"When will you get married?" Draco added.

Hermione stared at him. Severus rolled his eyes. "There will be a celebrant present on Sunday. We can get him to do the honours, if your sense of proprietary is offended by the suggestion of 'living in sin'."

Draco gave him a wicked smile. "Oh, far be it from me to suggest anything of the sort," he replied. "In fact, from what I recall, you were the overly conservative one."

Severus snorted. "I probably was," he replied.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "If it means that much to you, Severus, you can just tell me and we'll do it properly." He gave her an oddly vulnerable look which she interpreted as a yes. "I'll organise it."

Ginny laughed softly. "Look at us," she said. "Two years ago, I would never have thought this possible."

"Two years ago this _wasn't_ possible," Draco muttered. He was fiddling with her fingernails gently, holding her hand in his own.

She shrugged. "I suppose so."

Hermione began to clear the dishes. "I don't know about possibilities," she said. "But I know that now, I'm as close to happy as I've been in a long time."

Ginny met her eyes. "I know. I am too," she added, glancing down at her hands entwined with Draco's. Her stomach gave a strange twinge and she looked up to beam at Hermione. The other woman returned her smile.

At the doorway, Hermione turned back. "Tomorrow," she said. "At lunch, come and meet us at… Oh, at the apartment. Bring some dessert. And some champagne." She glanced at Severus, then left. Ginny was surprised to see heat rise in the man's face. He glared at the Ginny and Draco, then left as well.

Draco smiled at the door. "Good. Now he won't have that to mope about."

"Sorry?"

"He was my Godfather… No, I suppose he still is my Godfather. He spent hours lecturing me on the proper treatment of women. Specifically, telling me to marry them before I bedded them. Of course, my parents got to me first, but Severus never seemed to understand that I already knew what he was telling me." Draco shrugged. "I eventually figured out that his telling me actually had nothing to do with me, and everything to do with him. I think that he was a product of that sort, and his parents' marriage wasn't of the happiest variety."

Ginny frowned thoughtfully at the doorway. "Well, Hermione won't let him be unhappy."

Draco snorted. "That woman could make the tides stop if she wanted to. I've never met a more determined person. Well…" he looked over at her. "Maybe I have. Once or twice. Tell me… What is your mother like?"

Ginny swatted him. "Are you saying I'm a pushover?"

"Hardly! But…" Ginny didn't let him finish, instead taking it upon herself to discover if he was ticklish.

He was.

Incredibly.

And he sorely regretted teasing her before she finished. He even apologised. But as soon as she stopped, he returned the treatment, his greater size giving him an unfair advantage. When he finished, she was on her back, on the floor, gazing up into his face and trying desperately to catch her breath. She let him kiss her for a couple of minutes, then – determined not to let him win – began the torture once more.


	38. Chapter 38

Saturday was cold and bright, and Ginny was glad she'd wrapped herself warmly.

"I can't believe I backed out of telling your mum last night," Draco grouched beside her. Ginny smiled a superior smile. He glared at her but said nothing. She knew that she had won that bet.

Hermione's flat was a five minute walk from the Leaky Cauldron. Ginny was surprised that she'd not been there before now. Approaching slowly, she could see that the lot of units was well laid out. Hermione's flat was the one closest to the street. As they approached the door Ginny caught a glimpse of a central garden behind the building. Hermione opened the door before they even made it to the step.

"Come in, come in… I spent all night cleaning, so you might as well come in quickly and enjoy it before it gets dirty again…"

Ginny shook her head at her friend as she stepped into the small house. It was rather bare, and the smells in the air said that cauldrons had been bubbling in this room until recently. Severus came in and waved them to the chairs that had been hastily set up in the corner. Hermione smiled up at him then went to get tea for them all.

"Nervous?" Draco asked. Severus glared at him. Draco chuckled. "She's hardly going to leave: she organised it."

"I know," Severus snapped. "You circumvented the entire problem, so you can say nothing."

Draco shrugged. "Suppose."

"Where did you put all the cauldrons?" Ginny asked.

Severus grinned nastily. "On the back step."

"Won't the muggles see?"

"Oh, probably. I left them there for Hermione to find."

Ginny giggled softly. "I'll bet she's been working hard to try and be anything but a crazy woman…" Severus answered her with another grin.

Hermione came back in, humming softly, with a tray of tea and cakes. She set it on the small table. "Help yourself," she said. "I have some things to take care of."

"That sounds ominous," Ginny commented once Hermione had left the room again.

"She looks like Loony Lovegood," Draco added.

Ginny elbowed him. "Luna is a good person," she defended the woman. "Crazy now… but that's no excuse to call her names."

"Merlin, she's as bad as Hermione," Severus grumbled.

"Hardly," Draco commented. Severus shrugged. "Hey, you're the one marrying her," Draco added. Severus glared. Being nervous really took the edge off Severus' nastiness, however.

There was a light knock on the door. Ginny got up to answer it. "Pansy!"

Pansy stepped in over the threshold, her long dark hair falling in a curtain over her shoulders. "I heard that there was to be a small celebration today. I love parties," she added, sitting in a chair beside Severus.

"So, sir; nervous?" She also laughed at Severus' glare. "Well, I can't talk. I'm getting married tomorrow. I'm terrified," she confided.

"Of marrying my brother?" Ginny scoffed. "Just boss him around. You'll be fine."

Pansy pressed her lips together lightly. "No. Terrified that he'll mess up his lines. Or trip on the walk. Or stand on my feet during the bridal dance…" She smiled at Ginny's laugh.

Their talk was interrupted by a short, old man entering from the kitchen. Severus stood. "Hello," he said.

"Hello, yourself." The man snapped. "I take it you're the groom?"

"I suppose," Severus mumbled.

"Well, get over here then."

Ginny, Draco and Pansy watched amusedly as the little old man – with almost no hair and large nose – bossed Severus into standing straight, cleaning his clothes, brushing his hair. "Here's the ring," the man said. Severus took the small piece of gold. "Now, stand still."

Music started from somewhere. After a few moments – and the little man backhanding Severus' arm when he shuffled his feet – Hermione appeared in the doorway. Her mess of hair was somehow pulled up in a way that it formed ringlets down her back. She was wearing a long-sleeved dress with a dark blue overdress. She stepped over to the little man, stood facing Severus.

"Right," the little man said shortly. "It is the wish of these two people to come together in marriage. Today, we recognise this wish before the assembled people and before the magic. Firstly, do you people recognise the validity of the marriage forming here today?"

"We do," they answered.

"Secondly, we ask the magic to give some recognition of the validity of the marriage forming here today." They waited for perhaps ten seconds before a sparkle of silver showered the two.

"Good," the little man said. "Very pretty. Now, Severus Snape, do you take Hermione Joan Granger to be your lifelong partner, your wife, for as long as you both shall live?"

"I do," Severus said.

"And Hermione Joan Granger, do you take Severus Snape to be your lifelong partner, your husband, for as long as you both shall live?"

"I do," Hermione said.

"Good. Now, exchange rings." They did so. "By these tokens, you will always be assured of the love and commitment of the other. You may kiss."

And they did. The little man stepped back, and Ginny was sure that she saw him wipe his eyes. But when Severus and Hermione separated, he was all business once more.

"You are now husband and wife. Be welcomed by these assembled people." The three witnesses stood to congratulate them. "Good luck," the little man said, a smile on his face which said that they'd need it. Hermione shook the man's hand.

"Thankyou for doing such a good job on short notice," she said. Ginny wondered where the envelope had appeared from, and where it disappeared to once the little man took it.

"Pleasure," the man said. "Have a long and happy life together," he said from the doorway, then he was gone.

"Who on earth was that little man?" Severus asked.

Hermione shrugged. "I looked him up in the floo directory."

"No wonder he wasn't busy," he mumbled.

Hermione tapped him on the chest. "Not nice. Now, let's all have some lunch, then you can all go away and we can properly make this house our own."

Ginny didn't even want to think about that. They ate the lunch that Hermione had provided (roast duck, potatoes, apples and carrots), feasted on the dessert Ginny had brought (sticky date puddings with butterscotch sauce and cream) and drank champagne and the lovely white wine that Pansy had brought.

"Thanks for coming," Hermione said once they'd all finished.

"Now, go away," Severus added.

"Sure," Draco replied. "We'll just leave you with all the dishes, then."

And they jumped up and got out the door before Hermione or Severus could insist that they clean up. They waved, closed the door, and walked to the street.

"So, Pansy," Draco said, "doing much this afternoon? I am currently aware that I haven't seen your for a long time."

"Unfortunately," Pansy replied, "I have a wedding to organise. And a mother-in-law to boss around."

"Tough luck," Draco said.

"Not really," Pansy smiled slightly. "She's remarkably easy to work with."

"By the way," Ginny interrupted, "I gave him the ring."

"Oh? Congratulations," Pansy said. "Shall I tell Ron?"

"No," Draco said. Pansy looked to him for an explanation. He rolled his eyes. "We have a bet going."

"A bet?" she asked Ginny.

"He said that he could do a better job of telling people than I could. He took Hermione, Severus and my mother. I have you, Ron and dad."

"Ah," she said. "I take it that Severus and Hermione know. Have you told her mother yet?"

Draco glared. "No."

Pansy's smile widened a little. "Well, good luck…" and with that, she apparated away.

Draco frowned. "I forgot that she had a habit of doing that."

Ginny held Draco's arm. "Let's go and visit the Burrow."

Draco grimaced. "Must we?"

Ginny grinned. "Yes."

Ron was sitting at the kitchen table at the Burrow, peeling pumpkin. "Hi," he said to Ginny. Then he realised that Draco was in the room as well. "Oh. I suppose that your better nature showed through, then?" he said to Ginny.

She shrugged. "Yes. Where's dad?"

"In his office; where else?"

"Look after Draco for a little while, will you?"

"Oh, ok. Malfoy – grab a knife. I'll teach you how to peel pumpkin."

"Why don't you just charm it off?"

"It doesn't taste the same."

Draco snorted. Ron shrugged. "You can face mum's wrath, if you like."

Draco sat down and picked up a knife.

Ginny smiled and went up the stairs. Her mother was sitting with her father in his study. They weren't saying anything, just sitting. Ginny knocked on the doorframe.

"Come in, love," her dad said. "I want to say something. I know that… this ministry idea is never going to get off the ground. I'm sorry that I've put you through so much hardship…" her mum squeezed his hand.

Ginny moved over to hold his other hand. "It's ok, dad. You needed something to believe in. What are you going to do now?"

"Find a job," he said. "I don't know what I'll do, but I'll find something. Can… Can you forgive me for being so stupid?"

"Dad, you weren't being stupid. But, yes, I'll forgive you for trying to avoid change. I love you, dad."

He hugged her and her mother patted her arm. After a moment, he pulled back. "Was there something you wanted, love?"

"I… I just need to get something, then I'll tell you what I wanted." Ginny left them in the study, hurried downstairs.

Ron was in hysterics. "You need to leave some pumpkin behind to eat, Malfoy," he said around his laughter.

Ginny looked over at Draco. He had a small pile of massacred pumpkin. She squashed the laugh that bubbled up in her when Draco looked over at her, stricken.

"Ginny, this is torture!"

"No, it's not," she said. "It's hard work, is all. And it takes some time to learn. Ron, shut up. Draco, come with me."

Ron snickered as Ginny escorted Draco onto the stairs. "Draco… Mum and dad are up there, together. I couldn't tell them on my own."

He looked down at her. "What, couldn't bring yourself to win the bet?"

"Seriously, Draco," she said. "They're my parents and I want them to be happy for me. For us."

"I know," he said quietly. He pulled her close, kissed her quickly. "Let's do this, then."

Both her mum and her dad looked surprised when she stepped over the threshold with Draco in tow. Surprised, but not shocked.

"Mum, dad, we… have something to tell you."

"It's ok, Gin-baby," her dad said. "We know."

"What?" Ginny said, shocked.

Her parents smiled sadly at each other. "Why do children think they can keep things from their parents?" Her mother said. "Ginny, love, we know. We know that you were doing… illegal things, to help us with money. There was really nowhere else for the money to come from. When you told me about the ring… well, it was only a small leap of logic. We…"

Her dad said, "we want you to know that we're proud of you for taking responsibility for your actions. It made me so upset, knowing that you were… well, being Robin Hood, I suppose. And… it caught up with you. But we're very proud of you for not backing away from it."

"Malfoy…" her mother said. "No, I suppose I should call you Draco. We want you to know that… we love our daughter. And we want her to be happy. Or, at the very least, not unhappy. Can you do that?"

Draco, as shocked as Ginny was, replied, "Yes, I think I can. I hope I can. I want to."

Her dad smiled. "I think the words you're looking for are, 'I will'."

Draco nodded. "Thankyou. I will."

"And, Ginny dear, you'll put your heart into this, won't you? Marriages aren't one-sided affairs."

"I will, dad. I promise."

Her parents glanced at each other. Her mum stepped forward, caught them both in a hug. Her dad stood back, shook Draco's hand when Molly let them go. "Welcome to the family, Draco," he said.

"Thankyou," Draco said, and Ginny didn't need to look at him to see the tears on his face. She could hear them in his voice.

"Thankyou," she echoed.

"Well," her mum said, brushing her eyes and becoming all business. "Let's get you both downstairs. Draco, you can prove your willingness to be part of this family by learning how to peel pumpkin."

He groaned, and Ginny giggled. "Ron already tried to teach him."

Molly frowned. "Ron couldn't teach a stick how to stand still. Come on, Draco. You'll be peeling properly by the end of the afternoon." Ginny waved at Draco as he sent her a look that said, 'save me'. "And you, Ginny Weasley, can go and turn over the farthest left garden bed." Her father gave her a smile.

"I'll come and help you," he offered.

"Thanks, dad, I'd like that."


	39. Chapter 39

Sunday was as beautiful a day as the day before. Ginny and Draco arrived at Pansy's Cottage (which was anything but: walking around to the back garden gave the visitors a view of just how large the property actually was), meeting up with Hermione and Severus near the seating in the back garden.

"We're sitting on Pansy's side," Hermione informed them. Some of Ron's family had arrived to sit on the left hand side of the seating. Hermione kept her head down and walked them over to the chairs. Ginny felt for her friend. She also eyed her jealously – she looked remarkably well-rested and relaxed under her nervousness.

"Looks like they're enjoying being married," Draco muttered to her under his breath. Ginny felt the blush rising up her cheeks. She elbowed him. He gave her a look that made her blush even darker. She hurried to sit down.

Music started from somewhere. Everyone stood up, watched the isle. Molly and Arthur walked down, then stood waiting for Pansy and Ron, who followed them.

The ceremony was simple – not quite as Spartan as Hermione and Severus', but nearly as short – and Ginny spotted her mother's tears when a pale golden light illuminated the couple: the magic's blessing. Ginny smiled when Ron dipped his head to kiss his new bride – very tentatively, rather quickly, like she might bite. Yes, Pansy would keep him in line quite well.

A light lunch was presented on long tables, and Ginny started the daunting task of avoiding her aunts and uncles who wanted to talk to her. Normally, she would humour them for a few minutes; but today she simply wanted to go home. Draco was taking it all rather well – exchanging a few words with several of her cousins. The startled looks he left in his wake ranged from shock that the man was polite to one girl who thought that all her Christmases had come at once and nearly swooned. Ginny watched that incident with amusement.

Hermione and Severus had departed as soon as the ceremony had finished, with barely a congratulations for Pansy. Ginny had exchanged a look with Draco over the stricken look on Ron's face – alongside the very faint predatory smile on Pansy. Ginny took a glass of champagne from a circulating tray and began to fortify herself against any questions that family may field at her: namely, what on earth was she doing at the wedding with Draco Malfoy. She managed to give off vibes that kept most of the guests away.

Harry Potter – making a rare appearance in the public eye for his best friend's wedding – was not most guests. He wandered over to her. "I didn't even know," he said, beginning the conversation in the middle to avoid the uncomfortable introductory comments. "I thought he and Hermione were happily married."

Ginny shrugged. "There's a lot you don't know, staying cooped up in your farmhouse."

"I suppose. I enjoyed the solitude, although I will admit that now I am becoming a little lonely." He glanced at her over the top of his glass. Ginny felt creeping dread in her stomach. He couldn't even make small talk. He wanted something.

"Is that your way of saying you'd like to be friends?"

"I'm sorry for walking away before, Ginny, I really am. I had gone through so much, and I needed time to decide who I was…"

"And now you've decided, you're back to claim your prize?" Ginny interrupted. Merlin, she didn't want this confrontation at her brother's wedding: no, she didn't want this confrontation at all. She wanted Harry Potter to go back to his solitary house and leave her alone forever.

"What? Is that what… No, Ginny, you were never my prize. God, Ginny, I was afraid that… That I'd hurt you, somehow…"

"So you left, and you left me behind. Well, Harry, unfortunately you have to live with the decisions you've made. Even the unintentional ones. It's part of growing up, you know. I'm happy that you're ready to get back into life. But I'm not going to be part of that life." A few people glanced over at them; most people at the day were her family, however, and had felt slighted by Harry's actions toward Ginny. He found no support there. Ginny watched Harry's face flush slightly as he took in the glances of people around. Then Ginny felt an arm wrap around her waist.

"Everything alright, dear?" Draco said casually.

"It is now," she said, watching Harry's face turn dark.

"I see how it is," he said.

"That's good," Ginny said.

"Now, darling, poor Harry's had a hard life," Draco said patronisingly. "Don't be too hard on him."

The look that Harry gave Draco was pure venom. "Traitor," Harry said in an escalating voice. "Thief. You couldn't even stay on your side of the war properly. You stood there, watching everyone around you die, trying to decide which side to fight for. And now, just because you managed to send a random jinx into one or two people, you think you're a hero? You know nothing. You are nothing, nobody."

Now everyone was watching. Ginny moved to speak, but Draco squeezed her. She relented: this was his fight now. "Oh, Harry," he said sadly. "Hardly. Yes, I admit, I was young. I didn't know the full extent of what was happening. I know you don't believe me. To you, I was always guilty. All I was actually guilty of was being young and stupid and believing in my father. When I stood there, watching people die… I couldn't believe it. And when I made my decision – when I made an _informed_ decision – I decided for what I knew was right: not the side that was winning. No, I will never know what it was like for you to grow up facing Voldemort at every turn. But you are the one who knows nothing. You have shut yourself away from the world for years. Children today are told about you and they think you are a story, an imaginary person. You're not real. You are nobody."

He turned to Ginny. "Shall we go now, sweetheart?"

"I want to say congratulations to Pansy."

"Ok, let's do that."

They left Harry standing there. He was so furious he couldn't get a word out, just a few choked noises. When a crack sounded, both Ginny and Draco flinched, expecting a curse in the back. They relaxed when they realised the noise was him apparating away. "Wonder if he wants to come back to life now?" Draco murmured to her. She barked a laugh.

"No idea."

Ron and Pansy were standing by themselves, a small group of guests having just said goodbye. "You seem to have won over the crowd," Pansy said with a small arch of her eyebrow.

Draco glanced around. A few of the men met his gaze and nodded; the women smiled. He smiled and nodded back. "So it would seem. It wasn't really for their benefit." Pansy made an indelicate noise. Draco laughed. "Ok, so I turned it to my advantage. I've been waiting to trick that speech out of him for years."

"What speech?" Ron asked. Ron didn't seem to impressed: Harry was his best friend, after all. Draco smiled darkly.

"The one where he says that I didn't kill anybody, that I actually fought against Voldemort. The one where he exonerates me for any suspicion hanging over my head about events during that final battle. That speech."

"Oh," Ron said. "Why couldn't you just do that yourself?" All three people gave him exasperated looks. "Am I supposed to know the answer to this question?" He said, his voice tired. "Just tell me. I'm not very good at guessing."

"If he tried to say those things, he'd just be discredited," Ginny said. "Saying them is as bad as not saying them. If Draco claimed to be innocent, it'd be seen as a confession of guilt. Saying nothing leaves room for doubt. Saying anything confirms suspicion."

"Oh," Ron said.

"Yes, oh," Ginny replied. She gave him a big smile. "Congratulations, Ron. And congratulations, Pansy," She hugged them both. Draco shook Ron's hand and gave Pansy a civil kiss on the cheek.

"Congratulations to you as well," Pansy said with a slight smile. Draco rolled his eyes at her.

Molly and Arthur caught them before they could leave. Molly caught Draco in a hug that nearly broke his ribs. "Uh, I don't mean to be rude, but… What is this about?"

"We never believed those terrible rumours…" Molly sobbed into his chest.

Arthur cleared his throat. "What my wife means is, we did believe those terrible rumours, and we're very sorry for jumping to conclusions. You have shown yourself to be honourable in your dealings with our daughter. Much more honourable than Harry Potter. And I'm very sorry for setting him up as a measuring stick against you." He was bashful.

Draco extracted himself expertly from Molly's vice grip. "And I am honoured that you were willing to accept me into your family whilst believing those terrible things. And I'm not threatened by Harry Potter, so think nothing of it."

Molly surrendered to Arthur's arm around her shoulders, though tears still streamed down her face. "You have our blessing, and more."

Draco grinned. "Don't give unspecified gifts to a Slytherin," he cautioned. "Especially when you're emotionally vulnerable. Who knows what I might do with that offer?"

It was to Molly and Arthur's credit that they both chuckled at his words. "You've already got our daughter," Arthur said quietly. "What more could you ask?"


	40. Chapter 40

Monday morning dawned overcast and dreary. Ginny eyed the sky with distaste. Moving – even within the establishment – was never enjoyable on a dismal day. But, she told herself, what did she expect? It was winter.

So she dragged herself out of bed and began to assess her meagre belongings. The wardrobe was packed into a single suitcase (the expensive charm-laden thieving outfit snugly fitted into the false bottom), the bed stripped and sheets put into the laundry service, and she was just collecting her few items from the bathroom when Draco wandered in.

"You're up already?" He asked, staring at the room. "Is this all?"

Ginny poked her head out from the bathroom. "Yes, and almost. Just these few things as well." She caught his expression. "Did you want to comment?"

He met her gaze. "No, no… Just wondering how you survived without… I don't know, a rug on the floor? Proper curtains?"

"Well, how did you survive these past few weeks?"

He shrugged. "I was dying. I didn't care overmuch."

"I was poor. I had no choice." She pulled back into the bathroom before he could comment again. She looked at her small toilet bag. Her whole life fitted into two bags. She stood staring at the small mirror, wondering how on earth she had thought that Draco might understand her at all. He had never been poor, never been forced to say no to a luxury he couldn't afford. Never been without a meal.

Draco came into the room behind her, she watched him in the mirror. He saw her expression, but said nothing more than, "Can I take your bags for you?" She nodded.

So, with a trail of bags bobbing along behind them, Ginny led the way down to the owner's rooms on the ground floor. The main door opened into a living and dining area. Ginny wandered in, inspected the couches and bookcase and dining table, turned to look out the large charmed window on the back wall. Draco followed her in, dropped the bags by the door and followed her over to the window.

"No, I won't ever understand what you had to live with," he said. "I never expect to be poor, and I never have been. I've always seen it as an advantage, though perhaps there are things I've never learned because of that. I certainly don't know how to peel pumpkin! Ginny, look at me," he tipped her head up so he could see the tears on her face.

"I know you'll never understand. You know, in the stories, it's always 'happily ever after', and everything just works. But I suppose we'll have to do things the hard way." She gave him a half-hearted but determined smile.

Draco kissed her lightly. "We're tough, we can handle it," he said. "Hey, you dressed down Harry-bloody-Potter in front of a huge crowd yesterday. I've never seen anything braver."

She sniffed. "Yeah, but I didn't care what he thought of me. I… I really want you to like me. Merlin, that sounds stupid."

He laughed. "Hardly. It sounds like you care. And I care what you think. I think that as long as we both care about each other, we can make this work."

She gazed at him for a long moment, then nodded. "I think so, too." And she kissed him.

There was something different about kissing today, like moving into their own rooms made their marriage real. And when Draco moved to undo her blouse, she didn't stop him, instead reaching for his buttons in return. Her skin prickled into goosebumps as he trailed fingers over skin that had never been touched this way.

"I think the bedroom is that way," she breathed, then let out a gasp as he gave her a wicked grin, hoisted her over his shoulder and romped in the direction she had pointed.

'That way', proved to contain the kitchen and the laundry. Draco shrugged, tapped her bum and took her back through to the other side of the rooms. After finding the bathroom, a study and a linen cupboard, they finally made it to the bedroom. Ginny was giggling mercilessly by the time he dropped her onto the unmade bed.

"Are you laughing at me?" He demanded, his hair sticking in strange directions, his pants halfway undone. Ginny's giggles turned to proper laughter.

"I don't think I've ever seen you look this… rumpled," she said.

"I thought girls liked 'rumpled'," he grumbled, sitting on the bed to take his shoes off. "And, as you mention it, you are also looking rather dishevelled." When he turned around again, however, he saw that she had taken over the task of undressing herself. "Gods," he murmured, leaning over her naked skin and kissing her.

Needless to say, it was quite a while later before the pile of bags by the front door were looked at.

When they finally got around to unpacking, Ginny toted the bags into the bedroom. "We really have to put some sheets on that bed," she said. "I think I've developed a rash, Merlin it itches!"

Draco pulled her top up. "Yes, definitely in need of attention. Now, let me just…"

Ginny jumped away. "No! Unpacking first!" She grabbed up a bag and threw it to Draco, grinning as he grumbled.

"Isn't this what House Elves are for?"

"Yep, but now it's what you're for. Come on, love, it won't take long." Ginny shook out her few clothes, hung them in the wardrobe. "I'll be in the bathroom."

She grinned at Draco as she watched him glare with horror at the bag of garments he had yet to unpack. When she returned from the bathroom, all her unpacking done, he was only half-way done. She laughed.

"You really do need to learn how to pack light, you know?"

"You could help, you know," he grumbled. She laughed at him again then opened his other bag and started moving garments.

It was early afternoon by the time they finished with Draco's unpacking. "Shall we have something to eat?" Ginny asked, looking at the grey sky through the window.

Draco's stomach rumbled in reply. He shrugged. "Seems like a sensible option." She raised an eyebrow. He smiled. "I can think of all sorts of other, more interesting things to be doing…"

She grinned, but went to the dumb waiter and sent through an order for lunch. "I'm sure we'll work up an appetite," she said, hugging him and sliding her hands underneath his shirt.

They did get to lunch – eventually. Finally, laying in bed at the end of the day, Ginny smiled into Draco's chest. "What will you do tomorrow?"

"I should probably go in to the bank and take back control of the Malfoy assets," he said.

"And I should probably do some work in the books, and I think we're down a waitress tomorrow lunch. So much for a honeymoon," she said wryly.

"I'll take you to Italy next month," he said, sleep creeping into his voice.

"I want to go to Stonehenge."

"On the weekend, love," he mumbled. "And the next month we'll go to France. Then… Spain. Then…"

Ginny smiled as she slid into sleep.


	41. Epilogue

Epilogue

Epilogue

Ginny sat back in her chair, staring at the clouds moving over the tops of the trees that flanked the back of the property.

"Mum, you'll catch a chill sitting out here," her daughter said.

"I know, I know, I just like to watch the sky." She smiled at her daughter. "Help me back inside, dear. I think I'd like to sit in the eastern sunroom."

Ginny leaned on her youngest daughter's arm as she helped her inside. The house was a rambling estate which she had bullied Draco into purchasing ten years ago. That had been before the cold stiffened her knees.

"Dad will be home in two hours. I'll make some tea and join you in the sunroom. Here we go, mum."

Isabelle helped her into the chair facing the window. "That would be lovely, dear. While you're gone, I think I'll get started on some knitting."

"You were making a blanket for Aaron's son?"

"I finished that, I think. I am making some booties."

Isabelle nodded. "I'll be back in a few minutes."

Ginny watched her daughter go. She smiled. Who would have thought that, sixty years later, her heart would still race at the thought of Draco returning home? She picked up her knitting and let her thoughts wander. She had a full and wonderful life. Four children, her second grandchild on the way, a wonderful house (whichever house they were living in at the time), and an ever-young husband. Who refused to retire, but that was another argument for another day.

Isabelle returned with tea, cakes and the scones she had been baking earlier. "Here you are, mum. And the apple and cinnamon cake that you like."

"Thankyou, Isabelle." Once they were both seated, she continued the conversation. "Have you heard from Evita?"

Evita – Pansy and Ron's only child – was Isabelle's age, and the two had been close friends from the time they could toddle. "Yes, she's been working in Belgium these past months with a new apprentice-master." Her daughter laughed. "She said the weather's terrible, but the chocolate's good and the company is better. I think she's trying to find a husband."

"Tell her to finish her apprenticeship first, because all men want is babies," Ginny joked.

"Hardly," a voice came from the doorway, and both women turned to see Draco Malfoy – still attractive in his eighties – listening attentively. He joined them. "I seem to remember that I wanted a wife when we were married, not children…"

"You warmed to the idea very quickly, however," Ginny reminded him, remembering the way his eyes lit up each time she told him she was pregnant, the way he spent tireless hours with the children while they were growing up.

He smiled. "Oh, definitely. Eleanor sent me an owl, by the way. She said to expect James and her for dinner on Saturday."

"Good."

"Oh, mum, don't start bugging them about children again…"

"I know, that's the reason they haven't visited for six months. I understand. They have been married for seven years, though…"

"Ginny, darling…"

"I know, I know, I'm as bad as my mother." She waved the comment off, but didn't pursue the issue any further. "Aaron and Michelle will be with us on Saturday as well, assuming she's not in labour. If she is, we get William while they go in to St. Mungo's."

"That's fine. Isabelle can look after him," Draco winked at his daughter. She rolled her eyes.

"We all know that none of us will get a chance to play with him if he's here. You two are so bad," Isabelle smiled. "I also heard from Aunt Hermione – Joshua and Ingrid are getting married in September, and Gretel is being published in _Ars. Archema_ next issue."

"Oh, that's lovely!"

"I wonder if Severus will frame the issue, the way he did for all of Hermione's papers?"

"I think that's a good way of encouraging them in their hard work," Ginny replied.

"Yes, but it's not a very exciting wall display," Draco added.

"This from the man who wouldn't let me take up the carpet to see the floorboards…"

"Yes, but that makes the floor cold."

"So wear shoes," she replied.

Draco smiled indulgently at his wife. "Yes, dear."

They both laughed. "We've also been invited to the 500th Anniversary celebration at the Leaky Cauldron," Ginny said.

Draco nodded. "I had heard about that. I think we are the guests of honour," he added.

"That means I'll have to buy a new dress," Ginny murmured.

Draco grinned. "I don't know if the accounts can handle it," he teased.

"Oh, mum, before I forget, Elizabeth asked if she could bring her new boyfriend along on Saturday," Isabelle interjected. She loved the way that her parents still loved and appreciated each other, even now in their eighties.

"Is that the Zambini boy?" Ginny asked.

"Yes," Isabelle replied. "Julian, I think his name is."

"It was such a shock," Draco said absently, staring out the window. "To find out that Blaise had taken up with a muggle…"

"And a chronically ill muggle, at that," Ginny said. "But what a lovely woman she is," she said.

"Lucky that Severus could figure something out to make her better. What was it she had, again?"

"I don't remember. Lymphoma? Something like that. Tell her we'd love to meet him. It's about time she brought him home. They've been in the tabloids for months."

"I know, but she wanted to make sure it was serious before she brought him into our lives."

Ginny nodded. "She's a sensible girl. Speaking of sensible girls, were you going to take that apprenticeship with the man in Florence?"

Isabelle frowned. "I was holding out for an apprenticeship with Uncle Severus. But I doubt he'll take me on."

"Did you ask him?"

"I wanted him to offer."

"He'll never do that, dear. Ask him. He might even say yes," Ginny winked.

Isabelle smiled. "On Saturday I'll corner him."

The three sat in comfortable silence for a few minutes. Isabelle got up. "I'll begin on dinner, I think."

"Ok, dear. Call me if you need anything."

Draco looked at his wife. Age had marked them both – the lines, the grey hair, the bodies that were wearing out slowly. But in her eyes, he could still see the fire that had drawn him to her all those years ago, the determination that had kept them together for all this time. Ginny smiled at her husband. "Aren't you glad you were poor?" Draco asked.

Ginny raised an eyebrow. "Not particularly. What do you mean?"

"You climbed in through my window one night and stole my heart, you were so poor. And now look where we are," he said.

Ginny chuckled. "I'm sure I could have made a different path to your heart if I hadn't been so poor."

Draco shrugged. "Perhaps. But who are we to question the ways of the magic?"

Ginny shook her head. She smiled. "I'm very happy with how everything has worked out," she said.

"As am I, my darling," Draco replied, holding her hand. "As are we all."


End file.
